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«  «u 

POPULAR     NOVELS 
By  Mrs.   Mary  J.  Holmes. 

All  published   uniform  with  this  volume,  at  $1.50,  and  sent 
free  by  mail  on  receipt  of  price. 


I.  -  DARKNESS    AND    DAYLIGHT. 

ii.  —  'LENTA  RIVERS. 

III.  -  TEMPKST    AND    SUNSHINE. 

IV.  -  MATUAN    GREY. 
V.  -  MEADOW    BROOK. 

VI.  —  ENGLISH    ORPHANS. 
VII  -  DORA    DEANE. 
VIII.  -  COUSIN    MAUDE. 
IX.  -  HOMESTEAD    ON    THE    HILLSIDE. 


Mrs.  Holmes  is  a  peculiarly  pleasant  and  fascinating  writer, 
Her  books  are  alwavs  enU-rtaininK,  and  she  lias  the 
rare  faculty  of  enlisting  the  sympathy  and  affec 
tions  of  her  readers,  and  of  holding  their 
attention  to  her  pnges  with  deep 
and  absorbing  interest, 

CARLFTOIV,  Publisher, 
New  York. 


'LENA  MYERS. 


BY 


MARY  J.  HOLMES, 

AUTHOR  OF  "TEMPEST  AND  SUNSHINE,"  "THK  KNOLISU  ORPHANS,"  uTrm 

HOMESTEAD   ON    TUB   HILLSIDE,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 

Carle  ton,   Publisher,  413   Broadway. 


M  Dt'CC  LXI  V. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  tlie  year  one  thoustoij  eight  hundred 

and  fifty-six, 

BY  MILLER,  OETON  &  MULLIGAN, 
In  the  Clerk's  Ottice  ot  the  District  Court  of  the  Northern  District  of  New  \  or*. 


H?  /,<•/ 


XJ 
PREFACE. 


IF  it  be  true,  as  some  have  said,  that  a  secret  is  safer  in  a  preface 
than  elsewhere,  it  would  be  worse  than  folly  for  me  to  waste  the 
"midnight  oil,"  in  the  manufacture  of  an  article  which  no  one 
would  read,  a-.d  which  would  serve  no  purpose,  save  the  adding  of  a 
page  or  so  to  a  volame  perhaps  already  too  large.  But  I  do  not 
think  so.  I  wot  of  a  few  who,  with  a  horror  of  anything  savoring 
?f  humbug,  wade  industriously  through  a  preface,  be  it  never  so 
engthy,  hoping  therein  to  find  the  moral,  without  which  the  story 
tfould,  of  course,  be  valueless.  To  such  I  would  say,  seek  no  fur- 
Jier,  for  though  I  claim  for  '"Lena  Rivers,"  a  moral — yes,  half  a  dozen 
morals,  if  you  please— I  shall  not  put  them  in  the  preface,  as  I  pre 
fer  having  them  sought  after,  for  what  I  have  written  I  wish  to  have 
read. 

Reared  among  the  rugged  hills  of  the  Bay  State,  and  for  a  time 
constantly  associated  with  a  class  of  people  known  the  wide  world 
over  as  Yankees^  ia  no  more  than  natural  that  I  should  often  write 
of  the  places  and  scenes  with  which  I  have  been  the  most  familiar. 
In  my  delineations  of  New  England  character  I  have  aimed  to  copy 
from  memory,  and  in  no  one  instance,  I  believe,  have  I  overdrawn 
the  picture;  for  among  the  New  England  mountains  there  lives  many 
a  "Grandma  Nichols,"  a  "Joel  Slocum,"  or  a  "Nancy  Scovandyke," 
while  the  wide  world  holds  more  than  one  'Lena,  with  her  high 
temper,  extreme  beauty,  and  rare  combination  of  those  qualities 
which  make  the  female  character  so  lovely. 

Nearly  the  same  remarks  will  also  apply  to  my  portraitures  of 
Kentucky  life  and  character,  for  it  has  been  my  good  fortune  to 


M130683 


4  PREFACE. 

spend  a  year  and  a  half  in  that  state;  and  in  my  descriptions  of 
country  scenes  and  country  life,  I  have  with  a  few  exceptions  copied 
from  what  I  saw,  Mr*.  Livingstone  and  Mrs.  Graham  are  charac 
ters  found  everywhere,  while  the  impulsive  John  Jr.,  and  the  gen 
erous-hearted  Durward,  represent  a  class  of  individuals  who  belong 
more  exclusively  to  the  "sunny  south.** 

I  have  endeavored  to  make  this  book  both  a  good  and  an  interest 
ing  one,  and  if  I  have  failed  in  my  attempt,  it  is  too  late  to  remedy 
it  now;  and,  such  as  it  is,  I  give  it  to  the  world,  trusting  that  the 
eame  favor  and  forbearance  which  have  been  awarded  to  my  other 

works,  will  also  be  extended  to  this. 

M.  J.  H. 
BBOCKFOET,  N.  Y.  October,  1856. 


'LENA   RIVERS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

'LENA. 


FOR  many  days  the  storm  continued.  Highways  were 
blocked  up,  while  roads  less  frequented  were  rendered 
wholly  impassable.  The  oldest  inhabitants  of  Oakland  had 
"  never  seen  the  like  before,"  and  they  shook  their  gray 
heads  ominously  as  over  and  adown  the  New  England 
mountains  the  howling  wind  swept  furiously,  now  shriek 
ing  exultingly  as  one  by  one  the  huge  forest  trees  bent 
before  its  power,  and  again  dying  away  hi  a  low,  sad  wail, 
as  it  shook  the  casement  of  some  low-roofed  cottage, 
where  the  blazing  fire,  "  high  piled  upon  the  hearth," 
danced  merrily  to  the  sound  of  the  storm-wind,  and  then 
whirling  in  fantastic  circles,  disappeared  up  the  broad- 
mouthed  chimney. 

For  nearly  a  week  there  was  scarcely  a  sign  of  life  in 
the  streets  of  Oakland,  but  at  the  end  of  that  time  the 
etorm  abated,  and  the  December  sun,  emerging  from  its 
dark -hiding  place,  once  more  looked  smilingly  down  upon 
the  white,  untrodden  snow,  which  covered  the  earth  foi 
miles  and  miles  around.  Rapidly  the  roads  were  broken ; 
paths  were  made  on  the  narrow  sidewalk,  and  then  the 
villagers  bethought  themselves  of  their  mountain  neigh, 
bors,  who  might  perchance  have  suffered  from  the  severity 
of  the  storm.  Far  up  the  mountain  side  in  an  old  yellow 
fann-house,  which  had  withstood  the  blasts  of  many  a 


RIVERS. 


winter,  lived  Grandfather  and  Grandmother  Nichols,  a* 
they  were  familiarly  called,  and  ere  the  sun-setting,  ar- 
rancrements  were  made  for  paying  them  a  visit. 

Oakland  was  a  small  rural  village,  nestled  among  rocky 
hills  where  the  word  fashion  was  seldom  heard,  and  when 
many  of  the  primitive  customs  of  our  forefathers  still  pre 
vailed.     Consequently,  neither  the  buxom  maidens,  nor 
the  hale  old  matrons,  felt  in  the  least  disgraced  as  they 
piled  promiscuously  upon  the  four-ox  sled,  which  erelong 
was  moving  slowly  through  the  mammoth  drifts  which  lay 
upon  the  mountain  road.     As  they  drew  near  the  farm- 
house,  they  noticed  that  the  blue  paper  curtains  which 
ehaded  the  windows  of  Grandma  Nichols'  "spare  room" 
were  rolled  up,  while  the  faint  glimmer  of  a  tallow  candle 
within,  indicated  that  the  room  possessed  an  occupant. 
Who  could  it  be  ?     Possibly  it  was  John,  the  proud  man, 
who  lived  in  Kentucky,  and  who,  to  please  his  wealthy 
bride  exchanged  the  plebeian  name  of  Nichols,  for  that 
of  Livingston*,  which  his  high-born  lady  fancied  was  more 
aristocratic  in  its  sounding  ! 

"And  if  it  be  John,"  said  the  passengers  of  the  ox  sled, 
with  whom  that  gentleman  was  no  great  favorite,  "if  it 
be  John,  we'll  take  ourselves  home  as  fast  as  ever  we 

can." 

Satisfied  with  this  resolution,  they  kept  on  their  way, 
until  they  reached  the  wide  gateway,  where  they  were  met 
by  Mr  Nichols,  whose  greeting  they  fancied  was  less  cor- 
dial  than  usual.  With  a  simple  "how  d'ye  do,"  he  led  the 
way  into  the  spacious  kitchen,  which  answered  the  trebl 
purpose  of  dining-room,  sitting-room,  and  cook-room. 
Grandma  Nichols,  too,  appeared  somewhat  disturbed,  but 
die  met  her  visitors  with  an  air  which  seemed  to  say,  she 
was  determined  to  make  the  best  of  her  trouble,  whatever 
it  might  be. 


The  door  of  the  "  spare  room  "  was  slightly  ajar,  and 
f^hile  the  visitors  were  disrobing,  one  young  girl,  more 
curious  than  the  rest,  peered  cautiously  in,  exclaiming  as 
she  did  so,  "  Mother  1  mother !  Helena  is  in  there  on  the 
bed,  pale  as  a  ghost." 

"  Yes,  Heleny  is  in  there,"  interrupted  Grandma  Nichols, 
who  overheard  the  girl's  remark.  "  She  got  hum  the  fust 
night  of  the  storm,  and  what's  queerer  than  all,  she's  been 
married  better  than  a  year." 

"  Married  !  Married  !  Helena  married  !  Who  to  ? 
Where's  her  husband  ?  "  asked  a  dozen  voices  in  the  same 
breath. 

Grandfather  Nichols  groaned  as  if  in  pain,  and  his  wife, 
glancing  anxiously  toward  the  door  of  her  daughter's 
room,  said  in  reply  to  the  last  question,  "  That's  the  worst 
on't.  He  was  some  grand  rascal,  who  lived  at  the  suthard, 
and  come  up  here  to  see  what  he  could  do.  He  thought 
Heleny  was  handsome,  I  s'pose,  and  married  her,  making 
her  keep  it  still  because  his  folks  in  Car'lina  wouldn't  like 
it.  Of  course  he  got  sick  of  her,  and  jest  afore  the  baby 
was  born  he  gin  her  five  hundred  dollars  and  left  her." 

A  murmur  of  surprise  ran  round  the  room,  accompanied 
with  a  look  of  incredulity,  which  Grandma  Nichols  quickly 
divined,  and  while  her  withered  cheek  crimsoned  at  the 
implied  disgrace,  she  added  in  an  elevated  tone  of  voice, 
"  It's  true  as  the  Bible.  Old  Father  Blanchard's  son,  that 
used  to  preach  here,  married  them,  and  Heleny  brought 

us  a  letter  from  him,  saying  it  was  true.     Here  'tis, read 

it  yourselves,  if  you  don't  b'lieve  me;"  and  she  drew  from 
a  side  drawer  a  letter,  on  the  back  of  which,  the  villagers 
recognized  the  well  remembered  handwriting  of  the!/ 
former  pastor. 

This  proof  of  Helena's  innocence  was  hardly  relished 
by  the  clever  gossips  of  Oakland,  for  the  young  girl,  thougJi 
.A.  * 


10  'LENA  RIVERS. 

kind-hearted  and  gentle,  was  far  too  beautiful  to  be  a  gen 
eral  favorite.  Mothers  saw  in  her  a  rival  for  their  daugh 
ters,  while  the  daughters  looked  enviously  upon  her  clear, 
white  brow,  and  shining  chestnut  hair,  which  fell  in  wavy 
curls  about  her  neck  and  shoulders.  Two  years  before 
our  story  opens,  she  had  left  her  mountain  home  to  try  the 
mysteries  of  millinery  in  the  city,  where  a  distant  relative 
of  her  mother  was  living.  Here  her  uncommon  beauty 
attracted  much  attention,  drawing  erelong  to  her  side  a 
wealthy  young  southerner,  who,  just  freed  from  the  re- 
slraints  of  college  life,  found  it  vastly  agreeable  making 
love  to  the  fair  Helena.  Simple-minded,  and  wholly  un 
used  to  the  ways  of  the  world,  she  believed  each  word  he 
said,  and  when  at  last  he  proposed  marriage,  she  not  only 
consented,  but  also  promised  to  keep  it  a  secret  for  a  time, 
until  he  could  in  a  measure  reconcile  his  father,  who  he 
feared  might  disinherit  him  for  wedding  a  penniless  bride. 

"  Wait,  darling,  until  he  knows  you,"  sai^  he,  "  and 
then  he  will  gladly  welcome  you  as  his  daughter." 

Accordingly,  one  dark,  wintry  night,  when  neither 
moon  nor  stars  were  visible,  Helena  stole  softly  from  hei 
quiet  room  at  Mrs.  Warren's,  and  in  less  than  an  houi 
was  the  lawful  bride  of  Harry  Rivers,  the  wife  of  the 
clergyman  alone  witnessing  the  ceremony. 

"I  wish  I  could  take  you  home  at  once,"  said  young 
Rivers,  who  was  less  a  rascal  than  a  coward;  "I  wish  I 
could  take  you  home  at  once,  but  it  cannot  be.  We  must 
wait  awhile." 

So  Helena  went  back  to  Mrs.  Warren's,  where  for  a  few 
weeks  she  staid,  and  then  saying  she  was  going  home,  she 
left  and  became  the  mistress  of  a  neat  little  cottage  which 
Btood  a  mile  or  two  from  the  city.  Here  for  several 
months  young  Rivers  devoted  himself  entirely  to  her  hap 
piness,  seeming  to  forget  that  there  was  aught  else  in  the 


'LENA.  11 

world  save  his  "  beautiful  'Lena,"  as  he  was  won't  to  call 
her.  But  at  last  there  came  a  change.  Harry  seemed 
sad,  and  absent-minded,  though  ever  kind  to  Helena,  who 
strove  in  vain  to  learn  the  cause  of  his  uneasiness. 

One  morning  when,  later  than  usual,  she  awoke,  she 
missed  him  from  her  side ;  and  on  the  table  near  her  lay 
a  letter  containing  the  following : 

"Forgive  me,  darling,  that  I  leave  you  so  abruptly. 
Circumstances  render  it  necessary,  but  be  assured,  I  shall 
come  back  again.  In  the  meantime,  you  had  better  re- 
turn  to  your  parents,  where  I  will  seek  you.  Enclosed 
are  five  hundred  doUars,  enough  for  your  present  need. 
Farewell  H.  RIVEES." 

There  was  one  bitter  cry  of  hopeless  anguish,  and  when 
Helena  Rivers  again  awoke  to  perfect  consciousness,  she 
lay  in  a  darkened  room,  soft  footsteps  passed  in  and  out, 
kind  faces,  in  which  were  mingled  pity  and  reproach,  bent 
anxiously  over  her,  while  at  her  side  lay  a  little  tender 
thing,  her  infant  daughter,  three  weeks  old.  And  now 
there  arose  within  her  a  strong  desire  to  see  once  more 
her  childhood's  home,  to  lay  her  aching  head  upon  her 
mother's  lap,  and  pour  out  the  tale  of  grief  which  was 
crushing  the  life  from  out  her  young  heart. 

As  soon,  therefore,  as  her  health  would  permit,  she  start 
ed  for  Oakland,  taking  the  precaution  to  procure  from  the 
clergyman,  who  had  married  her,  a  letter  confirming  the 
fact.  Wretched  and  weary  she  reached  her  home  at  the 
dusk  of  evening,  and  with  a  bitter  cry  fell  fainting  in  the 
arms  of  her  mother,  who  having  heard  regularly  from 
her,  never  dreamed  that  she  was  elsewhere  than  in  the 
employ  of  Mrs.  Warren.  With  streaming  eyes  and  trem 
bling  hands  the  old  man  and  his  wife  made  ready  the 
spare  room  for  the  wanderer,  more  than  once 


12  'LENA  RIVERS. 

the  fearful  storm  which  for  a  time,  at  least,  would  keep 
away  the  prying  eyes  of  those  who,  they  feared,  would 
hardly  credit  their  daughter's  story. 

And  their  fears  were  right,  for  many  of  those  who  vis 
ited  them  on  the  night  of  which  we  have  spoken,  disbe 
lieved  the  tale,  mentally  pronouncing  the  clergyman's  let 
ter  a  forgery,  got  up  by  Helena  to  deceive  her  parents. 
Consequently,  of  the  few  who  from  tune  to  time  came  to 
the  old  farm-house,  nearly  all  were  actuated  by  motives 
of  curiosity,  rather  than  by  feelings  of  pity  for  the  young 
girl-mother,  who,  though  feeling  their  neglect,  scarcely 
heeded  it.     Strong  in  the  knowledge  of  her  own  inno 
cence,  she  lay  day  after  day,  watching  and  waiting  for  one 
whomever  came.     But  at  last,  as  days  glided  into  weeks, 
and  weeks  into  months,  hope  died  away,  and  turning  wea 
rily  upon  her  pillow,  she  prayed  that  she  might  die  ;  and 
when  the  days  grew  bright  and  gladsome  in  the  warm 
spring  sun,  when  the  snow  was  melted  from  off  the  moun 
tain  t'ops,  and  the  first  robin's  note  was  heard  by  the  farm 
house  door,  Helena  laid  her  baby  on  her  mother's  bosom, 
and  without  a  murmur  glided  down  the  dark,  broad  riv 
er,  whose  deep  waters  move  onward  and  onward,  but 
never  return. 

When  it  was  known  in  Oakland  that  Helena  was  dead, 
there  came  a  reaction,  and  those  who  had  been  loudest  in 
their  condemnation,  were  now  the  first  to  hasten  forward 
with  offers  of  kindness  and  words  of  sympathy.  But 
neither  tears  nor  regrets  could  recall  to  life  the  fair  young 
girl,  who,  wondrously  beautiful  even  in  death,  slept  calmly 
in  her  narrow  coffin,  a  smile  of  sadness  wreathing  her 
lips,  as  if  her  last  prayer  had  been  for  one  who  had  robbed 
her  thus  early  of  happiness  and  life.  In  the  bright  green 
valley  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain,  they  buried  her,  and 
the  old  father,  as  he  saw  the  damp  earth  fall  upon  her 


JOHN.  13 


grave,  asked  that  he  too  might  die.  But  his  wife,  younger 
by  several  years,  prayed  to  live— live  that  she  might  pro 
tect  and  care  for  the  little  orphan,  who  first  by  its  young 
mother's  tears,  and  again  by  the  waters  of  the  baptismal 
fountain,  was  christened  HELENA  RIVERS  ; — the  'Lena  of 
our  story. 


CHAPTER  II. 

JOHN. 


TEN  years  of  sunlight  and  shadow  have  passed  away, 
and  the  little  grave  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain  is  now 
grass-grown  and  sunken.  Ten  times  have  the  snows  of 
winter  fallen  upon  the  hoary  head  of  Grandfather  Nichols, 
bleaching  his  thin  locks  to  their  own  whiteness  and  bend 
ing  his  sturdy  frame,  until  now,  the  old  man  lay  dying  —  . 
dying  in  the  same  blue-curtained  room,  where  years  agone 
his  only  daughter  was  born,  and  where  ten  years  before 
she  had  died.  Carefully  did  Mrs.  Nichols  nurse  him, 
watching,  weeping,  and  praying  that  he  might  live,  while 
little  'Lena  gladly  shared  her  grandmother's  vigils,  hover 
ing  ever  by  the  bedside  of  her  grandfather,  who  seemed 
more  quiet  when  her  soft  hand  smoothed  his  tangled  hair 
or  wiped  the  cold  moisture  from  his  brow.  The  villagers, 
too,  remembering  their  neglect,  when  once  before  death 
had  brooded  over  the  mountain  farm-house,  now  daily 
came  with  oifers  of  assistance. 

But  one  thing  still  was  wanting.  John,  their  only  re 
maining  child,  was  absent,  and  the  sick  man's  heart  grew 
sad  and  his  eyes  dim  with  tears,  as  day  by  day  went  by, 
and  still  he  did  not  come.  Several  times  had  'Lena  writ- 


14  'LENA  RIVERS. 

ten  to  her  uncle,  apprising  him  of  his  father's  danger,  and 
once  only  had  he  answered.  It  was  a  brief,  formal  letter, 
written,  evidently,  under  some  constraint,  but  it  said  that 
he  was  coming,  and  with  childish  joy  the  old  man  had 
placed  it  beneath  his  pillow,  withdrawing  it  occasionally 
for  'Lena  to  read  again,  particularly  the  passage,  "  Dear 
father,  I  am  sorry  you  are  sick." 

"  Heaven  bless  him !  I  know  he's  sorry,"  Mr.  Nichols 
would  say.  "  He  was  always  a  good  boy — is  a  good  boy 
now.  Ain't  he,  Martha  ?  " 

And  mother-like,  Mrs.  Nichols  would  answer,  "  Yes,* 
forcing  back  the  while  the  tears  which  would  start  when 
she  th'ought  how  long  the  "good  boy"  had  neglected  them, 
eighteen  years  having  elapsed  since  he  had  crossed  the 
threshold  of  his  home. 

With  his  hand  plighted  to  one  of  the  village  maidens, 
he  had  left  Oakland  to  seek  his  fortune,  going  first  to  New 
York,  then  to  Ohio,  and  finally  wending  his  way  south 
ward,  to  Kentucky.  Here  he  remained,  readily  falling 
into  the  luxurious  habits  of  those  around  him,  and  gradu 
ally  forgetting  the  low-roofed  farm-house  far  away  to  the 
northward,  where  dwelt  a  gray-haired  pair  and  a  beautiful 
young  girl,  his  parents  and  his  sister.  She  to  whom  his 
vows  were  plighted  was  neither  graceful  nor  cultivated, 
and  when,  occasionally,  her  tall,  spare  figure  and  uncouth 
manners  arose  before  him,  in  contrast  with  the  fair  forms 
around  him,  he  smiled  derisively  at  the  thoughts  of  ma 
king  her  his  wife. 

About  this  time  there  came  from  New  Orleans  a  weal 
thy  invalid,  with  his  only  daughter  Matilda.  She  was  a 
proud,  haughty  girl,  whose  disposition,  naturally  unamia- 
ble,  was  rendered  still  worse  by  a  disappointment  from 
which  she  was  suffering.  Accidentally  Mr.  Richards,  her 
father,  made  the  acquaintance  of  John  Nichols,  conceiv 


JOHN. 


ing  A>r  him  n  violent  fancy,  and  finally  securing  him  as  a 
constant  companion.  For  several  weeks  John  appeared 
utterly  oblivious  to  the  presence  of  Matilda,  who,  accus 
tomed  to  adulation,  began  at  last  to  feel  piqued  at  his  neg 
lect,  and  to  strive  in  many  ways  to  attract  his  attention. 

John,  who  was  ambitious,  met  her  advances  more  than 
half  way,  and  finally,  encouraged  by  her  father,  offered 
her  his  heart  and  hand.  Under  other  circumstances,  Ma 
tilda  would  undoubtedly  have  spurned  him  with  contempt; 
but  having  heard  that  her  recreant  lover  was  about  taking 
to  himself  a  bride,  she  felt  a  desire,  as  she  expressed  it, 
"  to  let  him  know  she  could  marry  too."  Accordingly, 
John  was  accepted,  on  condition  that  he  changed  the 
name  of  Nichols,  which  Miss  Richards  particularly  dis 
liked,  to  that  of  Livingstone.  This  was  easily  done,  and 
the  next  letter  which  went  to  Oakland  carried  the  news 
of  John's  marriage  with  the  proud  Matilda. 

A  few  months  later  and  Mr.  Richards  died,  leaving  his 
entire  property  to  his  daughter  and  her  husband.  John 
was  now  richer  far  than  even  in  his  wildest  dreams  he  had 
ever  hoped  to  be,  and  yet  like  many  others,  he  found  that 
riches  alone  could  not  insure  happiness.  And,  indeed,  to 
be  happy  with  Matilda  Richards,  seemed  impossible. 
Proud,  avaricious,  and  overbearing,  she  continually  taunt 
ed  her  husband  with  his  entire  dependence  upon  her,  care 
fully  watching  him,  lest  any  of  her  hoarded  wealth  should 
find  its  way  to  the  scanty  purse  of  his  parents,  of  whom 
ehe  always  spoke  with  contempt. 

Never  but  once  had  they  asked  for  aid,  and  that  to  help 
them  rear  the  little  'Lena.  Influenced  by  his  wife,  John 
replied  sneeringly,  scouting  the  idea  of  Helena's  marriage, 
denouncing  her  as  his  sister,  and  saying  of  her  child,  that 
the  poor-house  stood  ready  for  such  as  she  !  This  letter 
•Lena  had  accidentally  found  among  her  grandfather's  pa 


16  'LENA  RIVERS. 

pers,  and  though  its  contents  gave  her  no  definite  impres- 
sion  concerning  her  mother,  it  inspired  her  with  a  dislike 
for  her  uncle,  whose  coming  she  greatly  dreaded,  for  it 
was  confidently  expected  that  she,  together  with  her 
grandmother,  would  return  with  him  to  Kentucky. 

"  You'll  be  better  off"  there  than  here,"  said  her  grand 
father  one  day,  when  speaking  of  the  subject.  "  Your 
TJncle  John  is  rich,  and  you'll  grow  up  a  fine  lady." 

"  I  don't  want  to  be  a  lady — I  won't  be  a  lady,"  said 
'Lena  passionately.  "  I  don't  like  Uncle  John.  He  called 
my  mother  a  bad  woman  and  me  a  little  brat !  I  hate 
him !  "  and  the  beautiful  brown  eyes  glittering  with  tears 
flashed  forth  their  anger  quite  as  eloquently  as  language 
could  express  it. 

The  next  moment  'Lena  was  bending  over  her  grand 
father,  asking  to  be  forgiven  for  the  hasty  words  which  she 
knew  had  caused  him  pain.  "  I'll  try  to  like  him,"  said  she, 
as  the  palsied  hand  stroked  her  disordered  curls  in  token  of 
forgiveness,  "  I'll  try  to  like  him ;"  adding  mentally,  "  but 
I  do  hope  he  won't  come." 

It  would  seem  that  'Lena's  wish  was  to  be  granted,  for 
weeks  glided  by  and  there  came  no  tidings  of  the  absent 
one.  Daily  Mr.  Nichols  grew  weaker,  and  when  there 
was  no  longer  hope  of  life,  his  heart  yearned  more  and 
more  to  once  more  behold  his  son ;  to  hear  again,  ere  he 
iied,  the  blessed  name  of  father. 

"  'Lena,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols  one  afternoon  when  her  hus 
band  seemed  worse,  "  'Lena,  it's  time  for  the  stage,  and 
do  you  run  down  to  the  '  turn »  and  see  if  your  uncle's 
come ;  something  tells  me  he'll  be  here  to-night." 

'Lena  obeyed,  and  throwing  on  her  faded  calico  sun- 
bonnet,  she  was  soon  at  the  "  turn,"  a  point  in  the  road 
from  which  the  village  hotel  was  plainly  discernible.  The 
Btage  had  just  arrived,  and  'Lena  saw  that  one  of  the  pas- 


JOHN.  1 7 

sengers  evidently  intended  stopping,  for  he  seemed  to  be 
giving  directions  concerning  his  baggage. 

"  That's  Uncle  John,  I  most  know,"  thought  she,  and 
seating  herself  on  a  rock  beneath  some  white  birches,  so 
common  in  New  England,  she  awaited  his  approach.  Sho 
was  right  in  her  conjecture,  for  the  stranger  was  John 
Livingstone,  returned  after  many  years,  but  so  changed 
that  the  jolly  landlord,  who  had  known  him  when  a  boy, 
and  with  whom  he  had  cracked  many  a  joke,  now  hardly 
dared  to  address  him,  he  seemed  so  cold  and  haughty. 

"  I  will  leave  my  trunk  here  for  a  few  days,"  said  John, 
"  and  perhaps  I  shall  wish  for  a  room.  Got  any  decent 
accommodations  ?  " 

"Wonder  if  he  don't  calculate  to  sleep  to  hum," 
thought  the  landlord,  replying  at  the  same  instant,  "  Yes, 
sir,  tip-top  accommodations.  Hain't  more'n  tew  beds  in 
ary  room,  and  now-a-days  we  allers  has  a  wash-bowl  and 
pitcher ;  don't  go  to  the  sink  as  we  used  to  when  you 
lived  round  here." 

With  a  gesture  of  impatience  Mr.  Livingstone  left  the 
house  and  started  up  the  mountain  road,  where  'Lena  still 
kept  her  watch.  Oh,  how  that  walk  recalled  to  him  the 
memories  of  other  days,  which  came  thronging  about  him 
as  one  by  one  familiar  way-marks  appeared,  reminding 
him  of  his  childhood,  when  he  roamed  over  that  moun 
tain-side  with  those  who  were  now  scattered  far  and  wide, 
some  on  the  deep,  blue  sea,  some  at  the  distant  west,  and 
others  far  away  across  the  dark  river  of  death.  He  had 
mingled  much  with  the  world  since  last  he  had  traversed 
that  road,  and  his  heart  had  grown  callous  and  indiffer 
ent,  but  he  was  not  entirely  hardened,  and  when  at  the 
"  turn  "  in  the  road,  he  came  suddenly  upon  the  tall  wal 
nut  tree,  on  whose  shaggy  bark  hia  name  was  carved,  to 
gether  with  that  of  another—a  maiden—he  started  as  if 

2 


13  'LENA  RIVERS. 

smitten  with  a  heavy  blow,  and  dashing  a  tear  from  his 
eye  he  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  that  I  were  a  boy  again." 

From  her  seat  on  the  mossy  rock  'Lena  had  been  watch 
ing  him.  She  was  very  ardent  and  impulsive,  strong  in 
her  likes  and  dislikes,  but  quite  ready  to  change  the  lat 
ter  if  she  saw  any  indications  of  improvement  in  the  per 
son  disliked.  For  her  uncle  she  had  conceived  a  great 
aversion,  and  when  she  saw  him  approaching,  thrusting 
aside  the  thistles  and  dandelions  with  his  gold-headed 
cane,  she  mimicked  his  motions,  wondering  "  if  he  didn't 
feel  big  because  he  wore  a  large  gold  chain  dangling  from 
his  jacket  pocket." 

But  when  she  saw  his  emotions  beneath  the  walnut  tree, 
her  opinion  suddenly  changed.  "A  very  bad  man  wouldn't 
cry,"  she  thought,  and  springing  to  his  side,  she  grasped 
his  hand,  exclaiming,  "  I  know  you  are  my  Uncle  John, 
and  I'm  real  glad  you've  come.  Granny  thought  you 
never  would,  and  grandpa  asks  for  you  all  the  time." 

Had  his  buried  sister  ar  sen  before  him,  Mr.  Living 
stone  would  hardly  have  been  more  startled,  for  in  form 
and  feature  'Lena  was  exactly  what  her  mother  had  been 
at  her  age.  The  same  clear  complexion,  large  brown 
eyes,  and  wavy  hair ;  and  the  tones  of  her  voice,  too,  how 
they  thrilled  the  heart  of  the  strong  man,  making  him  a 
boy  again,  guiding  the  steps  of  his  baby  sister,  or  bear 
ing  her  gently  in  his  arms  when  the  path  was  steep  and 
stony.  It  was  but  a  moment,  however,  and  then  the  vis 
ion  faded.  His  sister  was  dead,  and  the  little  girl  before 
him  was  her  child — the  child  of  shame  he  believed,  or 
rather,  his  wife  had  said  it  so  often  that  he  began  to  be 
lieve  it.  Glancing  at  the  old-womanish  garb  in  which 
Mrs.  Nichols  always  arrayed  her,  a  smile  of  mingled  scorn 
and  pity  curled  his  lip,  as  he  thought  of  presenting  her  to 
liis  fastidious  wife  and  elegant  daughters ;  then  withdraw- 


JOHN.  10 

mg  the  hand  which  she  had  taken,  he  said,  "And  you  are 
'Lena — 'Lena  Nichols  tl  ey  call  you,  I  suppose." 

'Lena's  old  dislike  began  to  return,  and  placing  both 
hands  upon  her  hips  in  imitation  of  her  grandmother,  she 
replied,  "  No  'tain't  'Lena  Nichols,  neither.  It's  'Lena 
Rivers.  Granny  says  so,  and  the  town  clark  has  got  it  so 
on  his  book.  How  are  my  cousins  ?  Are  they  pretty 
well  ?  And  how  is  Ant  f  » 

Mr.  Livingstone  winced,  at  the  same  time  feeling  amused 
at  this  little  specimen  of  Yankeeism,  in  which  he  saw  so 
much  of  his  mother.  Poor  little  'Lena !  how  should  she 
know  any  better,  living  as  she  always  had  with  two  old 
people,  whose  language  savored  so  much  of  the  days  be 
fore  the  flood  1  Some  such  thought  passed  through  Mr. 
Livingstone's  mind,  and  very  civilly  he  answered  her  con 
cerning  the  health  of  her  cousins  and  aunt ;  proceeding 
next  to  question  her  of  his  father,  who,  she  said,  "  had 
never  seen  a  well  day  since  her  mother  died." 

"  Is  there  any  one  with  him  except  your  grandmother  ?  " 
asked  Mr.  Livingstone  ;  and  'Lena  replied,  "  Aunt  Nancy 
Scovandyke  has  been  with  us  a  few  days,  and  is  there 
now." 

At  the  sound  of  that  name  John  started,  coloring  so 
deeply  that  'Lena  observed  it,  and  asked  "  if  he  knew 
Miss  Scovandyke  ?  " 

"  I  used  to,"  said  he,  while  'Lena  continued :  "  She's  a 
nice  woman,  and  though  she  ain't  any  connection,  I  call 
her  aunt.  Granny  thinks  a  sight  of  her." 

Miss  Scovandyke  was  evidently  an  unpleasant  topic  for 
Mr.  Livingstone,  and  changing  the  subject,  he  said, 
"  What  makes  you  say  &°anny,  child  ?  " 

'Lena  blushed  painfully.  'Tvvas  the  first  word  she  had 
ever  uttered,  her  grandmother  having  taught  it  to  her, 
and  encouraged  her  in  its  use.  Besides  that,  'Lena  had 


20  'LENA  RIVERS. 

a  great  horror  of  anything  which  she  fancied  was  at  all 
"  stuck  up,"  and  thinking  an  entire  change  from  Granny 
to  Grandmother  would  be  altogether  too  much,  she  still 
persisted  in  occasionally  using  her  favorite  word,  in  spito 
of  the  ridicule  it  frequently  called  forth  from  her  school 
companions.  Thinking  to  herself  that  it  was  none  of  her 
uncle's  business  what  she  called  her  grandmother,  she 
made  no  reply,  and  in  a  few  moments  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  yellow  farm-house,  which  looked  to  Mr.  Living 
stone  just  as  it  did  when  he  left  it,  eighteen  years  before. 
There  was  the  tall  poplar,  with  its  green  leaves  rustling 
in  the  breeze,  just  as  they  had  done  years  ago,  when  from 
a  distant  hill-top  he  looked  back  to  catch  the  last  glimpse 
of  his  home.  The  well  in  the  rear  was  the  same — the  li- 
'ac  bushes  in  front — the  tansy  patch  on  the  right  and  the 
gable-roofed  barn  on  the  left ;  all  were  there ;  nothing 
was  changed  but  himself. 

Mechanically  he  followed  'Lena  into  the  yard,  half  ex 
pecting  to  see  bleaching  upon  the  grass  the  same  web  of 
home-made  cloth,  which  he  remembered  had  lain  there 
when  he  went  away.  One  thing  alone  seemed  strange. 
The  blue  paper  curtains  were  rolled  away  from  the  "spare- 
room  "  windows,  which  were  open  as  if  to  admit  as  much 
air  as  possible. 

"  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  grandpa  was  worse,"  said  'Lena, 
hurrying  him  along  and  ushering  him  at  once  into  the  sick 
room. 

At  first  Mrs.  Nichols  did  not  observe  him,  for  she  was 
bending  tenderly  over  the  white,  wrinkled  face,  which  lay 
upon  the  small,  scanty  pillow.  John  thought  "  how  small 
and  scanty  they  were,"  while  he  almost  shuddered  at  the 
sound  of  his  footsteps  upon  the  uncarpeted  floor.  Every 
thing  was  dreary  and  comfortless,  and  his  conscience  re- 


JOHN.  21 

preached  him  that  his  old  father  should  die  so  poor,  when 
be  counted  his  money  by  thousands. 

As  he  passed  the  window  his  tall  figure  obscured  the 
fading  daylight,  causing  his  mother  to  raise  her  head,  and 
hi  a  moment  her  long,  bony  arms  were  twined  around  his 
neck.  The  cruel  letter,  his  long  neglect,  were  all  for 
gotten  in  the  joy  of  once  more  beholding  her  "  darling 
boy,"  whose  bearded  cheek  she  kissed  again  and  again. 
John  was  unused  to  such  demonstrations  of  affection,  ex 
cept,  indeed,  from  his  little  golden-haired  Anna,  who  was 
refined  and  polished,  and  all  that,  which  made  a  vast  dif 
ference,  as  he  thought.  Still,  he  returned  his  mother's 
greeting  with  a  tolerably  good  grace,  managing,  howev 
er,  to  tear  himself  from  her  as  soon  as  possible. 

"  How  is  my  father  ?  "  he  asked;  and  his  mother  replied, 
"  He  grew  worse  right  away  after  'Leny  went  out,  and  he 
seemed  so  put  to't  for  breath,  that  Nancy  went  for  the 
doctor — " 

Here  a  movement  from  the  invalid  arrested  her  atten 
tion,  and  going  to  the  bedside  she  saw  that  he  was  awake. 
Bending  over  him  she  whispered  softly,  "  John  has  come. 
Would  you  lil^e  to  see  him  ?  " 

Quickly  the  feeble  arms  were  outstretched,  as  if  to  feel 
what  could  not  be  seen,  for  the  old  man's  eye-sight  was 
dim  with  the  shadows  of  death. 

Taking  both  his  father's  hands  in  his,  John  said,  "  He|e 
I  am,  father ;  can't  you  see  me  ?  " 

"  No,  John,  no ;  I  can't  see  you."  And  the  poor  man 
wept  like  a  little  child.  Soon  growing  more  calm,  he  con 
tinued:  "  Your  voice  is  the  same  that  it  was  years  ago, 
when  you  lived  with  us  at  home.  That  hasn't  changed, 
though  they  say  your  name  has.  Oh,  John,  my  boy,  how 
could  you  do  so  ?  5T\vas  a  good  name — my  name-  —and 


22  'LENA  RIVERS. 

you  the  only  one  left  to  bear  it.     What  made  you  do  so, 
oh,  John,  John  ?  " 

Mr.  Livingstone  did  not  reply,  and  after  a  moment  his 
father  again  spoke  :  "  John,  lay  your  hand  on  my  fore 
head.  It's  cold  as  ice.  I  am  dying,  and  your  mother  will 
be  left  alone.  We  are  poor,  my  son ;  poorer  than  you 
think.  The  homestead  is  mortgaged  for  all  it's  worth,  and 
there  are  only  a  few  dollars  in  the  purse.  Oh,  I  worked 
so  hard  to  earn  them  for  her  and  the  girl — Helena's  child. 
Now,  John,  promise  me  that  when  I  am  gone  they  shall 
go  with  you  to  your  home  in  the  west.  Promise,  and  I 
shall  die  happy." 

This  was  a  new  idea  to  John,  and  for  a  time  he  hesita 
ted.  He  glanced  at  his  mother ;  she  was  ignorant  and  pe 
culiar,  but  she  was  his  mother  still.  He  looked  at  'Lena, 
she  was  beautiful — he  knew  that,  but  she  was  odd  and  old- 
fashioned.  He  thought  of  his  haughty  wife,  his  head 
strong  son  and  his  imperious  daughter.  What  would 
they  say  if  he  made  that  promise,  for  if  he  made  it  he 
would  keep  it. 

A  long  time  his  father  awaited  his  answer,  and  then  he 
spoke  again:  "Won't  you  give  your  old  mother  a 
home  ?  » 

The  voice  was  weaker  than  when  it  spoke  before,  and 
John  knew  that  life  was  fast  ebbing  away,  for  the  brow 
on  which  his  hand  was  resting  was  cold  and  damp  with 
the  moisture  of  death.  He  could  no  longer  refuse,  and 
the  promise  was  given. 

The  next  morning,  the  deep-toned  bell  of  Oakland  told 
that  another  soul  was  gone,  and  the  villagers  as  they 
counted  the  three  score  strokes  and  ten,  knew  that  Grand 
father  Nichols  was  numbered  with  the  dead. 


PACKING  UP.  28 

CHAPTER  III. 

PACKING    UP. 

THE  funeral  was  over,  and  in  the  quiet  Talley  by  the 
side  of  his  only  daughter,  Grandfather  Nichols  was  laid 
to  rest.  As  far  as  possible  his  father's  business  was  set 
tled,  and  then  John  began  to  speak  of  his  returning. 
More  than  once  had  he  repented  of  the  promise  made  to 
his  father,  and  as  the  time  passed  on  he  shrank  more  and 
more  from  introducing  his  "plebeian"  mother  to  his 
"  lady  »  wife,  who,  he  knew,  was  meditating  an  open  re 
bellion. 

Immediately  after  his  father's  death  he  had  written  to 
his  wife,  telling  her  all,  and  trying  as  far  as  he  was  able 
to  smooth  matters  over,  so  that  his  mother  might  at  least 
have  a  decent  reception.  In  a  violent  passion,  his  wife 
had  answered,  that  "  she  never  would  submit  to  it — never. 
When  I  married  you,"  said  she,  "  I  didn't  suppose  I  was 
marrying  the  'old  woman,'  young  one,  and  all;  and  as 
for  my  having  them  to  maintain,  I  will  not,  so  Mr.  John 
Nichols,  you  understand  it." 

When  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  particularly  angry,  she 
called  her  husband  Mr.  John  Nichols,  and  when  Mr.  John 
Nichols  was  particularly  angry,  he  did  as  he  pleased,  so  in 
this  case  he  replied  that  "  he  should  bring  home  as  many 
*  old  women »  and  « young  ones '  as  he  liked,  and  she  might 
help  herself  if  she  could ! » 

This  state  of  things  was  hardly  favorable  to  the  future 
happiness  of  Grandma  Nichols,  who,  wholly  unsuspecting, 
and  deeming  herself  as  good  as  anybody,  never  dreamed 
that  her  presence  would  be  unwelcome  to  her  daughter-in- 
law,  whom  she  thought  to  assist  in  various  ways,  "  taking 


24  'LENA  UlVEilS. 

perhaps  the  whole  heft  of  the  housework  upon  herself! — . 
though,"  she  added,  "  I  mean  to  begin  just  as  I  can  hold 
out.  I've  hearn  of  such  things  as  son's  wives  shirkin' 
the  whole  on  to  their  old  mothers,  and  the  minit  'Tilda 
shows  any  signs  of  that,  I  shall  back  out,  I  tell  you." 

John,  who  overheard  this  remark,  bit  his  lip  with  vexa 
tion,  and  then  burst  into  a  laugh  as  he  fancied  the  elegant 
Mrs.  Livingstone's  dismay  at  hearing  herself  called  '  Tilda, 
Had  John  chosen,  he  could  have  given  his  mother  a  few 
useful  hints  with  regard  to  her  treatment  of  his  wife,  but 
such  an  idea  never  entered  his  brain.  He  was  a  man 
of  few  words,  and  generally  allowed  himself  to  be  con 
trolled  by  circumstances,  thinking  that  the  easiest  way  of 
getting  through  the  world.  He  was  very  proud,  and 
keenly  felt  how  mortifying  'twould  be  to  present  his 
mother  to  his  fashionable  acquaintances  ;  but  that  was  in 
the  future — many  miles  away — he  wouldn't  trouble  him 
self  about  it  now  ;  so  he  passed  his  time  mostly  in  ramb 
ling  through  the  woods  and  over  the  hills,  while  his  moth 
er,  good  soul,  busied  herself  with  the  preparations  for  her 
journey,  inviting  each  and  every  one  of  her  neighbors  to 
"  be  sure  and  visit  her  if  they  ever  came  that  way,"  and 
11  rging  some  of  them  to  come  on  purpose  and  "  spend  the 
winter." 

Among  those  who  promised  compliance  with  this  last 
request,  was  Miss  Nancy  Scovandyke,  whom  we  have  once 
before  mentioned,  and  who,  as  the  reader  will  have  in 
ferred,  was  the  first  love  of  John  Livingstone.  On  the 
night  of  his  arrival,  she  had  been  sent  in  quest  of  the 
physician,  and  when  on  her  return  she  learned  from  'Lena 
that  he  had  come,  she  kept  out  of  sight,  thinking  she 
would  wait  awhile  before  she  met  him.  "  Not  that  she 
cared  the  snap  of  her  finger  for  him,"  she  said,  "only 
t  was  natural  that  she  should  hate  to  see  him." 


PACKING  UP.  25 

But  when  the  time  did  come,  she  met  it  bravely,  sha 
king  his  hand  and  speaking  to  him  as  if  nothing  had  ever 
happened,  and  while  he  was  wondering  how  he  ever  could 
have  fancied  her,  she,  too,  was  mentally  styling  herself 
"  a  fool,"  for  having  liked  "  such  a  pussy,  overgrown 
thing ! "  Dearly  did  Miss  Nancy  love  excitement,  and 
during  the  days  that  Mrs.  Nichols  was  packing  up,  she 
was  busy  helping  her  to  stow  away  the  "crockery,"  which 
the  old  lady  declared  should  go,  particularly  the  "  blue  set, 
which  she'd  had  ever  since  the  day  but  one  before  John 
was  born,  and  which  she  intended  as  a  part  of  'Leny's 
settin'  out.  Then,  too,  John's  wife  could  use  'em  when 
she  had  a  good  deal  of  company ;  'twould  save  buyin' 
new,  and  every  little  helped !  " 

u  I  wonder,  now,  if 'Tilda  takes  snuff,"  said  Mrs.  Nich 
ols,  one  day,  seating  herself  upon  an  empty  dry  goods  box 
which  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor,  and  helping  her 
self  to  an  enormous  pinch  of  her  favorite  Maccaboy ;  "  I 
wonder  if  she  takes  snuff,  'cause  if  she  does,  we  shall  take 
a  sight  of  comfort  together." 

"  I  don't  much  b'lieve  she  does,"  answered  Miss  Nancy, 
whose  face  was  very  red  with  trying  to  cram  a  pair  of 
cracked  bellows  into  the  already  crowded  top  of  John's 
leathern  trunk,  « I  don't  b'lieve  she  does,  for  somehow  it 
seems  to  me  she's  a  mighty  nipped-up  thing,  not  an  atom 
like  you  nor  me." 

"  Like  enough,"  returned  Mrs.  Nichols,  finishing  her 
snuff,  and  wiping  her  fingers  upon  the  corner  of  her 
checked  apron  ;  "  but,  Nancy,  can  you  tell  me  how  in  the 
Torld  I'm  ever  goin'  to  carry  this  mop  f  It's  bran  new, 
never  been  used  above  a  dozen  times,  and  I  can't  afford 
to  give  it  away." 

At  this  point,  John,  who  was  sitting  in  the  adjoining 
room,  came  forward.  Hitherto  he  had  not  interfered  in 


20  'LENA  R1VEHS. 

the  least  in  his  mother's  arrangements,  but  had  looked 
silently  on  while  she  packed  away  article  after  article, 
which  she  would  never  need,  and  which  undoubtedly 
would  be  consigned  to  the  flames  the  moment  her  back 
was  turned.  The  mop  business,  however,  was  too  much 
for  him,  and  before  Miss  Nancy  had  tune  to  reply,  he 
said,  "  For  heaven's  sake,  mother,  how  many  traps  do  you 
propose  taking,  and  what  do  you  imagine  we  can  do  with 
a  mop  ?  Why,  I  dare  say  not  one  of  my  servants  would 
know  how  to  use  it,  and  it's  a  wonder  if  some  of  the  little 
chaps  didn't  take  it  for  a  horse  before  night. " 

"  A  nigger  ride  my  mop  !  my  new  mop  !  "  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Nichols,  rolling  up  her  eyes  in  astonishment,  while 
Miss  Nancy,  turning  to  John,  said,  "  In  the  name  of  the 
people,  how  do  you  live  without  mops  ?  I  should  s'pose 
you'd  rot  alive! " 

"  I  am  not  much  versed  in  the  mysteries  of  housekeep 
ing,"  returned  John,  with  a  smile  ;  "  but  it's  my  impres 
sion  that  what  little  cleaning  our  floors  get  is  done  with 
a  cloth." 

"  Wall,  if  I  won't  give  it  up  now,"  said  Miss  Nancy. 
"As  good  an  abolutionist  as  you  used  to  be,  make  the 
poor  colored  folks  wash  the  floor  with  a  rag,  on  their 
hands  and  knees !  It  can't  be  that  you  indulge  a  hope,  if 
you'll  do  such  things  !  " 

John  made  Miss  Nancy  no  answer,  but  turning  to  his 
mother,  he  said,  "  I'm  in  earnest,  mother,  about  your  car 
rying  so  many  useless  things.  We  don't  want  them. 
Our  house  is  full  now,  and  besides  that,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
is  very  particular  about  the  style  of  her  furniture,  and  I 
am  afraid  yours  would  hardly  come  up  to  her  ideas  of 
elegance." 

That  chist  of  drawers,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  pointing  to 
an  old-fushioned,  high-topped  bureau,  "  cost  an  ocean  of 


PACKING  UP.  27 

money  when  'twas  new,  and  if  the  brasses  en  it  was 
rubbed  up,  'Tilda  couldn't  teU'em  from  gold,  unless  she's 
seen  more  on't  than  I  have,  which  ain't  much  likely,  bein 
I'm  double  her  age." 

"  The  chest  does  very  well  for  you,  I  admit,"  said  John, 
"but  we  have  neither  use  nor  room  for  it,  so  if  you  can't 
sell  it,  why,  give  it  away,  or  burn  it,  one  or  the  other." 
Mrs.  Nichols  saw  he  was  decided,  and  forthwith  'Lena 
was  dispatched  to  Widow  Fisher's,  to  see  if  she  would 
take  it  at  half  price.  The  widow  had  no  fancy  for  second 
hand  articles,  consequently  Miss  Nancy  was  told  "to  keep 
it,  and  may-be  she'd  sometime  have  a  chance  to  send  it 
to  Kentucky.  It  won't  come  amiss,  I  know,  s'posin'  they 
be  well  on't.  I  b'lieve  in  lookin'  out  for  a  rainy  day. 
I  can  teach  'Tilda  economy  yet,"  whispered  Mrs.  Nich 
ols,  glancing  toward  the  room  where  John  sat,  whis 
tling,  whittling,  and  pondering  in  his  own  mind  the  best 
way  of  reconciling  his  wife  to  what  could  not  well  be 
helped. 

^  'Lena,  who  was  naturally  quick-sighted,  had  partially 
divined  the  cause  of  her  uncle's  moodiness.  The  more 
she  saw  of  him  the  better  she  liked  him,  and  she  began 
to  think  that  she  would  willingly  try  to  cure  herself 
of  the  peculiarities  which  evidently  annoyed  him,  if  ho 
would  only  notice  her  a  little,  which  he  was  not  likely  to 
do.  He  seldom  noticed  any  child,  much  less  little  'Lena, 
who  he  fancied  was  ignorant  as  well  as  awkward;  but  he 
did  not  know  her. 

One  day  when,  as  usual,  he  sat  whittling  and  thinking, 
'Lena  approached  him  softly,  and  laying  her  hand  upon 
his  knee,  said  rather  timidly,  "  Uncle,  I  wish  you'd  tell 
me  something  about  my  cousins." 

"What  about  them,"  he  asked,  somewhat  gruffly,  for 


28  'LENA  RIVERS. 

it  grated  upon  his  feelings  to  hear  his  daughters  called 
cousin  by  her. 

"  I  want  to  know  how  they  look,  and  which  one  I  shall 
like  the  best,"  continued  'Lena. 

"  You'll  like  Anna  the  best,"  said  her  uncle ;  and  'Lena 
asked,  "  Why  ?  What  sort  of  a  girl  is  she  ?  Does  she 
love  to  go  to  school  and  study  ?  " 

"  None  too  well,  I  reckon,"  returned  her  uncle,  adding 
that  "  there  were  not  many  little  girls  who  did." 

*'  Why  I  do,"  said  'Lena,  and  her  uncle,  stopping  for 
a  moment  his  whittling,  replied  rather  scornfully,  "  You  ! 
I  should  like  to  know  what  you  ever  studied  besides  the 
spelling  book ! " 

'Lena  reddened,  for  she  knew  that,  whether  deservedly 
or  not,  she  bore  the  reputation  of  being  an  excellent  schol 
ar,  for  one  of  her  age,  and  now  she  rather  tartly  an 
swered,  "I  study  geography,  arithmetic,  grammar,  and— 
history,  she  was  going  to  add,  but  her  uncle  stopped  her, 
saying,  "  That'll  do,  that'll  do.  You  study  all  these  ? 
Now  I  don't  suppose  you  know  what  one  of  'em  is." 

"Yes  I  do,  said  'Lena,  with  a  good  deal  of  spirit. 
"  Olney's  geography  is  a  description  of  the  earth ;  Col- 
burn's  arithmetic  is  the  science  of  numbers;  Smith's 
grammar  teaches  us  how  to  speak  correctly." 

"  Why  don't  you  do  it  then,"  asked  her  uncle. 

"Do  what?"  said  'Lena,  and  her  uncle  continued, 
"  Why  don't  you  make  some  use  of  your  boasted  knowl 
edge  of  grammar  ?  Why,  my  Anna  has  never  seen  the 
inside  of  a  grammar,  as  I  know  of,  but  she  don't  talk  like 
you  do." 

"Don't  what,  sir  ?"  said  'Lena. 

"  Don't  talk  like  you  do,"  repeated  her  uncle,  whilo 
'Lena's  eyes  fairly  danced  with  mischief  as  she  asked,  "  if 
that  were  good  grammar." 


ON  THE  ROAD.  29 

Mr.  Livingston  colored,  thinking  it  just  possible  that 
he  himself  might  sometimes  be  guilty  of  the  same  things 
for  which  he  had  so  harshly  chided  'Lena,  of  whom 
from  this  time  he  began  to  think  more  favorably.  It 
could  hardly  be  said  that  he  treated  her  with  any  more 
attention,  and  still  there  was  a  difference  which  she  felt, 
and  which  made  her  very  happy. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

ON    THE    ROAD. 

AT  last  the  packing  up  process  came  to  an  end.  Eve 
rything  too  poor  to  sell,  and  too  good  to  give  away, 
had  found  a  place — some  here,  some  there,  and  some 
in  John's  trunk,  among  his  ruffled  bosoms,  collars,  dick 
eys,  and  so  forth.  Miss  Nancy,  who  stood  by  until 
the  last,  was  made  the  receiver  of  sundry  cracked  tea 
cups,  noseless  pitchers,  and  iron  spoons,  which  could  not 
be  disposed  of  elsewhere. 

And  now  every  box  and  trunk  was  ready.  Farmer 
Truesdale's  red  wagon  stood  at  the  door,  waiting  to  con 
vey  them  to  the  depot,  and  nothing  remained  for  Grand 
ma  Nichols,  but  to  did  adieu  to  the  old  spot,  endeared  to 
her  by  so  many  associations.  Again  and  again  she  went 
from  room  to  room,  weeping  always,  and  lingering  long 
est  in  the  one  where  her  children  were  born,  and  where 
her  husband  and  daughter  had  died.  In  the  corner  stood 
the  old  low-post  bedstead,  the  first  she  had  ever  owned, 
and  now  how  vividly  she  recalled  the  time  long  years  be 
fore,  when  she,  a  happy  maiden,  ordered  that  bedstead, 
blushing  deeply  at  the  sly  allusion  which  the  cabinet  ma- 


30  'LENA  RIVERS. 

kermade  to  her  approaching  marriage.  He,  too,  was 
with  her,  strong  and  healthy.  Now,  he  was  gone  from 
her  side  forever.  His  couch  was  a  narrow  coffin,  and  the 
old  bedstead  stood  there,  naked  —  empty.  Seating  her 
self  ^  upon  it,  the  poor  old  lady  rocked  to  and  fro,  moan- 
ing  in  her  grief,  and  wishing  that  she  were  not  going  to 
Kentucky,  or  that  it  were  possible  now  to  remain  at  her 
mountain  home.  Summoning  all  her  courage,  she  gave 
one  last  glance  at  the  familiar  objects  around  her,  at  the 
flowers  she  had  planted,  the  trees  she  had  reared,  and 
then  taking  'Lena's  hand,  went  down  to  the  gate  where 
her  con  was  awaiting  her. 

He  saw  she  had  been  weeping,  and  though  he  could 
not  appreciate  the  cause  of  her  tears,  in  his  heart  he  pitied 
her,  and  his  voice  and  manner  were  unusually  kind  as  he 
helped  her  to  the  best  seat  in  the  wagon,  and  asked  if  she 
were  comfortable.  Then  his  eye  feU  upon  her  dress,  and 
his  pity  changed  to  anger  as  he  wondered  if  she  was 
wholly  devoid  of  taste.  At  the  time  of  his  father's  death, 
he  had  purchased  decent  mourning  for  both  his  mother 
'Lena;  but  these  Mrs.  Nichols  pronounced  "alto- 
gcther  too  good  for  the  nasty  cars;  nobody'd  think  any 
Dc^-r  of  them  for  being  rigged  out  in  their  very  best 
meetin' 


So  the  bombasin  was  packed  away,  and  in  its  place  she 
wore  a  dark  blue  and  white  spotted  calico,  which  John 
could  have  sworn  she  had  twenty  years  before,  and  which 
was  not  unlikely,  as  she  never  wore  out  a  garment.  She 
was  a  great  enemy  to  long  skirts,  hence  her's  came  just  to 
her  ancles,  and  as  her  black  woolen  stockings  had  been 
carefully  footed  with  white,  there  was  visible  a  dark  rirn 
about  half  an  inch  in  width  !  Altogether  she  presented 
a  rather  grotesque  appearance,  with  her  oblong  work- 
bag,  in  which  were  her  snuff-box,  brass  spectacles,  and 


ON  THE  ROAD.  31 

half  a  dozen  "  nut-cakes,"  which  would  "  save  John's  buy« 
ing  dinner." 

Unlike  her  grandmother's,  'Lena's  dress  was  a  great  deal 
too  long,  and  as  she  never  wore  pantalets,  she  had  the 
look  of  a  premature  old  woman,  instead  of  a  child  ten  sum 
mer's  old,  as  she  was.  Still  the  uncommon  beauty  of 
her  face,  and  the  natural  gracefulness  of  her  form,  atoned 
in  a  measure  for  the  singularity  of  her  appearance. 

In  the  doorway  stood  Miss  Nancy,  and  by  her  side  her 
nephew,  Joel  Slocum,  a  freckled  face  boy,  who  had  fre 
quently  shown  a  preference  for  'Lena,  by  going  with  her 
for  her  grandmother's  cow,  bringing  Ldr  harvest  apples, 
and  letting  her  ride  on  his  sled  often er  than  the  other 
girls  at  school.  Strange  to  say,  his  affection  was  not  re 
turned,  and  now,  notwithstanding  he  several  times  wiped 
both  eyes  and  nose,  on  the  end  of  which  there  was  an 
enormous  freck,  'Lena  did  not  relent  at  all,  but  with  a 
simple  "  Good-by,  Jo,"  she  sprang  into  the  wagon,  which 
moved  rapidly  away. 

It  was  about  five  miles  from  the  farm-house  to  the  de 
pot,  and  when  half  that  distance  had  been  g^?v«>  over, 
Mrs.  Nichols  suddenly  seized  the  reins,  ordering  the 
driver  to  stop,  and  saying,  "  she  must  go  straight  back, 
for  on  the  shelf  of  the  north  room  cupboard  she  had  left 
a  whole  paper  of  tea,  which  she  couldn't  afford  to  lose  !  " 

"  Drive  on?  said  John,  rather  angrily,  at  the  same 
time  telling  his  mother  that  he  could  buy  her  a  ton  of 
tea  if  she  wanted  it. 

"  But  that  was  already  bought,  and  'twould  have  saved 
so  much,"  said  she,  softly  wiping  away  a  tear,  which  was 
occasioned  partly  by  her  son's  manner,  and  partly  by  the 
great  loss  she  felt  she  sustained  in  leaving  behind  her  fa 
vorite  "  old  hyson." 

This  saving  was  a  matter  of  wliich  Grandma  Nichols 


'LENA  RIVERS. 

said  so  much,  that  John,  who  was  himself  slightly  avari 
cious,  began  to  regret  that  he  ever  knew  the  definition  of 
the  word  save.  Lest  our  readers  get  a  wrong  impres 
sion  of  Mrs.  Nichols,  we  must  say  that  she  possessed  very 
many  sterling  qualities,  and  her  habits  of  extreme  econo 
my  resulted  more  from  the  manner  in  which  she  had 
been  compelled  to  live,  than  from  natural  stinginess.  For 
this  John  hardly  made  allowance  enough,  and  his  moth 
er's  remarks,  instead  of  restraining  him,  only  made  him 
more  lavish  of  his  money  than  he  would  otherwise  have 
been. 

When  Mrs.  Nichols  and  'Lena  entered  the  cars,  they 
of  course  attracted  universal  attention,  which  annoyed 
John  excessively.  In  Oakland,  where  his  mother  was 
known  and  appreciated,  he  could  bear  it,  but  among 
strangers,  and  with  those  of  his  own  caste,  'twas  different  j 
so  motioning  them  into  the  first  unoccupied  seat,  he  saun 
tered  on  with  an  air  which  seemed  to  say,  "  they  were 
nothing  to  him,"  and  finding  a  vacant  seat  at  the  other 
end  of  the  car,  he  took  possession  of  it.  Scarcely,  how 
ever,  had  he  entered  into  conversation  with  a  gentleman 
near  him,  when  some  one  grasped  his  arm,  and  looking 
up,  he  saw  his  mother,  her  box  in  one  hand,  and  an  enor 
mous  pinch  of  snuff  in  the  other. 

"  John,"  said  she,  elevating  her  voice  so  as  to  drown 
the  noise  of  the  cars,  "  I  never  thought  on't  till  this  minit, 
but  I'd  just  as  lief  ride  in  the  second  class  cars  as  not, 
and  it  only  costs  half  as  much !  " 

Mr.  Livingstone  colored  crimson,  and  bade  her  go 
back,  saying  that  if  he  paid  the  fare  she  needn't  feel 
troubled  about  the  cost.  Just  as  she  was  turning  to 
leave,  the  loud  ring  and  whistle,  as  the  train  neared  a 
crossing,  startled  her,  and  in  great  alarm  she  asked  if 
"  somethin'  hadn't  bust !  " 


ON  THE  ROAD.  33 

John  made  no  answer,  but  the  gentleman  near  him  very 
politely  explained  to  her  the  cause  of  the  disturbance,  af 
ter  which,  she  returned  to  her  seat.  When  the  conduc 
tor  appeared,  he  fortunately  came  in  at  the  door  nearest 
John,  who  pointed  out  the  two,  for  whom  he  had  tickets, 
and  then  turned  again  to  converse  with  the  gentleman, 
who,  though  a  stranger,  was  from  Louisville,  Kentucky, 
and  whose  acquaintance  was  easily  made.  The  sight  of 
the  conductor  awoke  in  Mrs.  Nichols'  brain  a  new  idea, 
and  after  peering  out  upon  the  platform,  she  went  rush 
ing  up  to  her  son,  telling  him  that  "the  trunks,  box, 
feather  bed,  and  all,  were  every  one  on  'em  left ! " 

"  No,  they  are  not,"  said  John ;  "  I  saw  them  aboard 
myself." 

"  Wall,  then,  they're  lost  off,  for  as  sure  as  you're  born, 
there  ain't  one  on  'em  in  here ;  and  there's  as  much  as 
twenty  weight  of  new  feathers,  besides  all  the  crockery ! 
Holler  to  'em  to  stop  quick ! " 

The  stranger,  pitying  Mr.  Livingstone's  chagrin,  kindly 
explained  to  her  that  there  was  a  baggage  car  on  purpose 
for  trunks  and  the  like,  and  that  her  feather  bed  was  un 
doubtedly  safe.  This  quieted  her,  and  mentally  styling 
him  "  a  proper  nice  man,"  she  again  returned  to  her  seat. 

"  A  rare  specimen  of  the  raw  Yankee,"  said  the  stran 
ger  to  John,  never  dreaming  in  what  relation  she  stood 
to  him. 

"  Yes,"  answered  John,  not  thinking  it  at  all  necessary 
to  make  any  further  explanations. 

By  this  time  Mrs.  Nichols  had  attracted  the  attention 
of  all  the  passengers,  who  watched  her  movements  with 
great  interest.  Among  these  was  a  fine-looking  youth, 
fifteen  or  sixteen  years  of  age,  who  sat  directly  in  front 
tf  'Lena.  He  had  a  remarkably  open,  pleasing  counte« 
aance,  while  there  was  that  in  his  eyes  which  showed  hin? 
B*  3 


34  'LENA  RIVERS. 

to  be  a  lover  of  fun.  Thinking  he  had  now  found  it  in  a 
rii,h  form,  he  turned  partly  round,  and  would  undoubt 
edly  have  quizzed  Mrs.  Nichols  unmercifully,  had  not 
something  in  the  appearance  of  'Lena  prevented  him. 
This  was  also  her  first  ride  in  the  cars,  but  she  possessed 
a  tact  of  concealing  the  fact,  and  if  she  sometimes  felt, 
frightened,  she  looked  in  the  faces  of  those  around  her, 
gathering  from  them  that  there  was  no  danger.  Sho 
knew  that  her  grandmother  was  making  herself  ridicu 
lous,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  as  she  whispered,  "  Do 
sit  still,  granny ;  everybody  is  looking  at  you." 

The  young  lad  noticed  this,  and  while  it  quelled  in  him 
the  spirit  of  ridicule,  it  awoke  a  strange  interest  in  'Lena, 
who  he  saw  was  beautiful,  spite  of  her  unseemly  guise. 
She  was  a  dear  lover  of  nature,  and  as  the  cars  sped  on 
through  the  wild  mountain  scenery,  between  Pittsfield 
and  Albany,  she  stood  at  the  open  window,  her  hands 
closely  locked  together,  her  lips  slightly  parted,  and  her 
eyes  wide  with  wonder  at  the  country  through  which 
they  were  passing.  At  her  grandmother's  suggestion 
she  had  removed  her  bonnet,  and  the  brown  curls  which 
clustered  around  her  white  forehead  and  neck  were  moved 
up  and  down  by  the  fresh  breeze  which  was  blowing. 
The  youth  was  a  passionate  admirer  of  beauty,  come  in 
what  garb  it  might,  and  now  as  he  watched,  he  felt  a 
strong  desire  to  touch  one  of  the  glossy  ringlets,  which 
floated  within  his  reach.  There  would  be  no  harm  in  it, 
he  thought — "she  was  only  a  little  girl,  and  he  was  al 
most  a  man — had  tried  to  shave,  and  was  going  to  enter 
college  in  the  fall."  Still  he  felt  some  doubts  as  to  the 
propriety  of  the  act,  and  was  about  making  up  his  mind 
that  he  had  better  not,  when  the  train  shot  into  the  "  tun 
nel,"  and  for  an  instant  they  were  in  total  darkness. 
Quiche  as  thought  his  hand  sought  the  brown  curls,  but 


ON  THE  ROAD.  35 

they  were  gone,  and  when  the  cars  again  emeiged  into 
daylight,  'Lena's  arms  were  around  her  grandmother's 
neck,  trying  to  hold  her  down ;  for  the  old  lady,  sure  of 
a  smash-^tp  this  time,  had  attempted  to  rise,  screamin<> 
loudly  for  "John!" 

The  boy  laughed  aloud — he  could  not  help  it;  but 
when  'Lena's  eyes  turned  reprovingly  upon  him,  he  felt 
sorry ;  and  anxious  to  make  amends,  addressed  himself 
very  politely  to  Mrs.  Nichols,  explaining  to  her  that  it 
was  a  "  tunnel"  through  which  they  had  passed,  and  as 
suring  her  there  was  no  danger  whatever.  Then  turning 
to  'Lena,  he  said,  "  I  reckon  your  grandmother  is  not 
much  accustomed  to  traveling." 

"  No,  sir,"  answered  'Lena,  the  rich  blood  dyeing  her 
cheek  at  being  addressed  by  a  stranger. 

It  was  the  first  time  any  one  had  ever  said  "  sir  "  to  the 
boy,  and  now  feeling  quite  like  patronizing  the  little  girl, 
he  continued :  "  I  believe  old  people  generally  are  timid 
when  they  enter  the  cars  for  the  first  time." 

Nothing  from  'Lena  except  a  slight  straightening  up 
of  her  body,  and  a  smoothing  down  of  her  dress,  but  the 
ice  was  broken,  and  erelong  she  and  her  comprurion  were 
conversing  as  familiarly  as  if  they  had  known  each  other 
for  years.  Still  the  boy  was  not  inquisitive — he  did  not 
ask  her  name,  or  where  she  was  going,  though  he  told 
her  that  his  home  was  in  Louisville,  and  that  at  Albany 
he  was  to  take  the  boat  for  New  York,  where  his  mother 
was  stopping  with  some  friends.  He  also  told  her  that 
the  gentleman  near  the  door,  with  dark  eyes  and  whiskers, 
was  his  father. 

Glancing  toward  the  person  indicated,  'Lena  saw  that 
it  was  the  same  gentleman  who,  all  the  afternoon,  had 
been  talking  with  her  uncle.  He  was  noble  looking,  and 
she  felt  glad  that  he  was  the  father  of  the  bov— he  was 


30  'LENA  RIVERS. 

just  such  a  man,  she  fancied,  as  ought  to  be  his  father- 
just  such  a  man  as  she  could  wish  her  father  to  be — and 
then  'Lena  felt  glad  that  the  youth  had  asked  her  noth. 
ing  concerning  her  parentage,  for,  though  her  grand 
mother  had  seldom  mentioned  her  father  in  her  presence, 
there  were  others  ready  and  willing  to  inform  her  that  he 
was  a  villain,  who  broke  her  mother's  heart. 

When  they  reached  Albany,  the  boy  rose,  and  offering 
his  hand  to  'Lena,%aid,  "  I  suppose  I  must  bid  you  good- 
by,  but  I'd  like  right  well  to  go  farther  with  you." 

At  this  moment  the  stranger  gentleman  came  up,  and 
on  seeing  howr  his  son  was  occupied,  said  smilingly,  "  So- 
ho !  Durward,  you  always  manage  to  make  some  lady  ac 
quaintance." 

"  Yes,  father,"  returned  the  boy  called  Durward,  "  but 
not  always  one  like  this.  Isn't  she  pretty,"  he  added  in 
a  \vhisper. 

The  stranger's  eyes  fell  upon  'Lena's  face,  and  for  a 
moment,  as  if  by  some  strange  fascination,  seemed  rivet 
ed  there ;  but  the  crowd  pressed  him  forward,  and  'Lena 
only  heard  him  reply  to  his  son,  "  Yes,  Durward,  very 
pretty ;  but  hurry,  or  we  shall  lose  the  boat." 

The  next  moment  they  were  gone.  Leaning  from  the 
window,  'Lena  tried  to  catch  another  glimpse  of  him,  but 
in  vain.  He  was  gone — she  would  never  see  him  again, 
she  thought ;  and  then  she  fell  into  a  reverie  concerning 
his  home,  his  mother,  bin  sisters,  if  he  had  any,  and  finally 
ended  by  wishing  that  she  were  his  sister,  and  the  daugh 
ter  of  his  father.  While  she  was  thus  pondering,  her 
grandmother,  also,  was  busy,  and  when  'Lena  looked 
round  for  her  she  was  gone.  Stepping  from  the  car, 
'Lena  espied  her  in  the  distance,  standing  by  her  uncle 
and  anxiously  watching  for  the  appearance  of  her  "  great 
trunk,  little  trunk,  band-box,  and  bag."  Each  of  theso 


ON  THE  EOAD.  37 

articles  were  forthcoming,  and  in  a  few  moments  they 
were  on  the  ferry-boat  crossing  the  blue  waters  of  the 
Hudson,  Mrs.  Nichols  declaring  that  "  if  she'd  known  it 
wasn't  a  bridge  she  was  steppin'  onto,  she'd  be  bound 
they  wouldn't  have  got  her  on  in  one  while." 

"  Do  sit  down,"  said  'Lena ;  "  the  other  people  don't 
seem  to  be  afraid,  and  I'm  sure  we  needn't." 

This  Mrs.  Nichols  was  more  willing  to  do,  as  directly 
at  her  side  was  another  old  lady,  traveling  for  the  first 
time,  frightened  and  anxious.  To  her  Mrs.  Nichols  ad 
dressed  herself,  announcing  her  firm  belief  that  "she 
should  be  blew  sky  high  before  she  reached  Kentucky, 
where  she  was  going  to  live  with  her  son  John,  who  she 
supposed  was  well  off,  worth  twenty  negroes  or  more ; 
but,"  she  added,  lowering  her  voice,  "  I  don't  b'lieve  in 
no  such,  and  I  mean  he  shall  set  'em  free — poor  critters, 
duddin'  from  mornin'  till  night  Avithout  a  cent  of  pay. 
He  says  they  call  him  'master,'  but  I'll  warrant  he'll 
never  catch  me  a  callin'  him  so  to  one  on  'em.  I  prom 
ised  Nancy  Scovandyke  that  I  wouldn't,  and  I  won't !  " 

Here  a  little  pop  corn  boy  came  'round,  which  reminded 
Mrs.  Nichols  of  her  money,  and  that  she  hadn't  once 
looked  after  it  since  she  started.  Thinking  this  as  favor 
able  a  time  as  she  would  have,  she  drew  from  her  capa 
cious  pocket  an  old  knit  purse,  and  commenced  counting 
cut  its  contents,  piece  by  piece. 

"  Beware  of  pick-pockets!"  said  some  one  in  her  ear, 
and  with  the  exclamation  of  "  Oh  the  Lord !  "  the  purse 
disappeared  in  her  pocket,  on  which  she  kept  her  hand 
until  the  boat  touched  the  opposite  shore.  Then  in  the 
confusion  and  excitement  it  was  withdrawn,  the  purse 
was  forgotten,  and  when  on  board  the  night  express  for 
Buffalo  it  was  again  looked  for,  it  was  gone  ! 
With  a  wild  outcry  the  horror-stricken  matron  sprang 


38  'LENA  RIVERS. 

up,  calling  for  John,  who  in  some  alarm  came  to  her  side^ 
asking  what  she  wanted. 

"  I've  lost  my  purse.  Somebody's  stole  it.  Lock  the 
door  quick,  and  search  every  man,  woman,  and  child  in 
the  car ! " 

The  conductor,  who  chanced  to  be  present,  now  came 
up,  demanding  an  explanation,  and  trying  to  convince 
Mrs.  Nichols  how  improbable  it  was  that  any  one  present 
had  her  money. 

"  Stop  the  train,  then,  and  let  me  get  off." 

u  Had  you  a  large  amount  ?  "  asked  the  conductor. 

"  Every  cent  I  had  in  the  world.  Ain't  you  going  to 
let  me  get  off?  "  was  the  answer. 

The  conductor  looked  inquiringly  at  John,  who  shook 
his  head,  at  the  same  time  whispering  to  his  mother  not 
to  feel  so  badly,  as  he  would  give  her  all  the  money  she 
wanted.  Then  placing  a  ten  dollar  bill  in  her  hand,  he 
took  a  seat  behind  her.  We  doubt  whether  this  would 
have  quieted  the  old  lady,  had  not  a  happy  idea  that  mo 
ment  entered  her  mind,  causing  her  to  exclaim  loudly, 
"  There,  now,  I've  just  this  minute  thought.  I  hadn't 
but  five  dollars  in  my  purse  ;  t'other  fifty  I  sewed  up  in 
an  old  night-gown  sleeve,  and  tucked  it  away  in  that 
sachel  up  there,"  pointing  to  'Lena's  traveling  bag,  which 
hung  over  her  head.  She  would  undoubtedly  have  des 
ignated  the  very  corner  of  said  sachel  in  which  her  money 
could  be  found,  had  not  '  »son  touched  her  shoulder, 
bidding  her  be  silent  and  not  tell  everybody  where  her 
money  was,  if  she  didn't  want  it  stolen. 

Mrs.  Nichols  made  no  reply,  but  when  she  thought  she 
was  not  observed,  she  arose,  and  slily  taking  down  the 
each  el,  pi  iced  it  under  her.  Then  seating  herself  upon 
it,  she  gave  a  sigh  of  relief  as  she  thought,  "  they'd  have 
to  work  hard  to  get  it  now,  without  her  knowing  it ! " 


ON  THE  ROAD.  39 

Dear  old  soul !  when  arrived  at  her  journey's  end,  how 
much  comfort  she  took  in  recounting  over  and  over  ao-ain 
the  incidents  of  the  robbery,  wondering  if  it  was,  as  John 
said,  the  very  man  who  had  so  kindly  cautioned  her  to 
beware  of  pickpockets,  and  who  thus  ascertained  where 
she  kept  her  purse.  Nancy  Scovandyke,  too,  was  duly 
informed  of  her  loss,  and  charged  when  she  came  to  Ken 
tucky,  "to  look  out  on  the  ferry-boat  for  a  youngish, 
good-looking  man,  with  brown  frock  coat,  blue  cravat, 
and  mouth  full  of  white  teeth." 

At  Buffalo  Mr.  Livingstone  had  hard  work  to  coax  his 
mother  on  board  the  steamboat,  but  he  finally  succeeded, 
and  as  the  weather  chanced  to  be  fine,  she  declared  that 
ride  on  the  lake  to  be  the  pleasantest  part  of  her  journey. 
At  Cleveland  they  took  the  cars  for  Cincinnati,  going 
thence  to  Lexington  by  stage.  On  ordinary  occasions 
Mr.  Livingstone  would  have  preferred  the  river,  but 
knowing  that  in  all  probability  he  should  meet  with  some 
of  his  friends  upon  the  boat,  he  chose  the  route  via  Lex 
ington,  where  he  stopped  at  the  Phoanix,  as  was  his  usual 
custom. 

After  seeing  his  mother  and  niece  into  the  public  par 
lor,  he  left  them  for  a  time,  saying  he  had  some  business 
to  transact  in  the  city.  Scarcely  was  he  gone  when 
the  sound  of  shuffling  footsteps  in  the  hall  announced 
an  arrival,  and  a  moment  after,  a  boy,  apparently  fif 
teen  years  of  age,  appeared  i '  .he  door.  He  was  richly 
though  carelessly  dressed,  and  notwithstanding  the  good- 
humored  expression  of  his  rather  handsome  face,  there 
was  in  his  whole  appearance  an  indescribable  something 
which  at  once  pronounced  him  to  be  a  "  fast "  boy.  A 
rowdy  hat  was  set  on  one  side  of  his  head,  after  the  most 
approved  fashion,  while  in  his  hand  he  held  a  lighted 
cigar,  which  he  applied  to  his  mouth  when  he  saw  tha 


40  'LENA  RIVERS. 

parlor  was  unoccupied,  save  by  an  "  old  woman  "  and  a 
"little  girl." 

Instinctively  'Lena  shrank  from  him,  and  withdrawing 
herself  as  far  as  possible  within  the  recess  of  the  window, 
pretended  to  be  busily  watching  the  passers  by.  But  she 
did  not  escape  his  notice,  and  after  coolly  surveying  her 
for  a  moment,  he  walked  up  to  her,  saying,  "  How  d'ye, 
poly wog  ?  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  know  to  what  gender  you 
belong — woman  or  gal — which  is  it,  hey  ?  " 

"  None  of  your  business,"  was  'Lena's  ready  answer. 

"  Spunky,  ain't  you,"  said  he,  unceremoniously  pulling 
one  of  the  brown  curls  which  Durward  had  so  longed  to 
touch.  "  Seems  to  me  your  hair  don't  match  the  rest  of 
you  ;  wonder  if  'tisn't  somebody  else's  head  set  on  your 
shoulders." 

"  No  it  ain't.  It's  my  own  head,  and  you  just  let  it 
alone,"  returned  Lena,  growing  more  and  more  indig 
nant,  and  wondering  if  this  were  a  specimen  of  Kentucky 
boys. 

"  Don't  be  saucy,"  continued  her  tormentor ;  "  I  only 
want  to  see  what  sort  of  stuff  you  are  made  of." 

"  Made  of  dirt?  muttered  'Lena. 

"I  reckon  you  are,  returned  the  boy;  "but  say, 
where  did  you  come  from  and  who  do  you  live  with  ?  " 

"  I  came  from  Massachusetts,  and  I  live  with  granny? 
said  'Lena,  thinking  that  if  she  answered  him  civilly, 
he  would  perhaps  let  her  alone.  But  she  was  mistaken. 

Glancing  at  "  granny?  he  burst  into  a  loud  laugh,  and 
then  placing  his  hat  a  little  more  on  one  side,  and  assuming 
a  nasal  twang,  he  said,  "  Neow  dew  tell,  if  you're  from 
Massachusetts.  How  dew  you  dew,  little  Yankee,  and 
how  are  all  the  folks  to  hum  ?  " 

Feeling  sure  that  not  only  herself  but  all  her  relations 
were  included  in  this  insult,  'Lena  darted  ^orw?v(?  hitting 


ON  THE  ROAD.  41 

him  a  blow  in  the  face,  which  he  returned  by  puffing 
smoke  into  hers,  whereupon  she  snatched  the  cigar  from 
his  mouth  and  hurled  it  into  the  street,  bidding  him 
"  touch  her  again  if  he  dared."  All  this  transpired  so 
rapidly  that  Mrs.  Nichols  had  hardly  time  to  understand 
its  meaning,  but  fully  comprehending  it  now,  she  was 
about  coming  to  the  rescue,  when  her  son  reappeared, 
exclaiming,  "  John,  John  Livingstone  Jr.,  how  came  you 
here  ?  » 

Had  a  cannon  exploded  at  the  feet  of  John  Jr.,  as  he 
was  called,  he  could  not  have  been  more  startled.  He 
was  not  expecting  his  father  for  two  or  three  days,  and 
was  making  the  most  of  his  absence  by  having  what  he 
called  a  regular  "  spree."  Taking  him  altogether,  he  was, 
without  being  naturally  bad,  a  spoiled  child,  whom  no  one 
could  manage  except  his  father,  and  as  his  father  seldom 
tried,  he  was  of  course  seldom  managed.  Never  yet  had 
he  remained  at  any  school  more  than  two  quarters,  for  if 
he  were  not  sent  away,  he  generally  ran  away,  sure  of 
finding  a  champion  in  his  mother,  who  had  always  petted 
him,  calling  him, '  Johnny  darling,"  until  he  one  day  very 
coolly  informed  her  that  she  was  "  a  silly  old  fool,"  and 
that  "  he'd  thank  her  not  to  Johnny  darling  him  any 
longer." 

It  would  be  difficult  to  describe  the  amazement  of  John 
Jr.  when  'Lena  was  presented  to  him  as  his  cousin,  and 
Mrs.  Nichols  as  his  grandmother.  Something  which 
Bounded  very  much  like  an  oath  escaped  his  lips,  as  turn- 
ing  to  his  father  he  muttered,  "Won't  mother  go  into 
fits  ?  "  Then,  as  he  began  to  realize  the  ludicrousnesa 
of  the  whole  affair,  he  exclaimed,  "  Rich,  good,  by  gra. 
cious !  "  and  laughing  loudly,  he  walked  away  to  regale 
himself  with  another  cigar. 

'Lena  began  to  tremble  for  her  future  happiness,  if  thai 


42  'LENA  RIVERS. 

boy  was  to  live  in  the  same  house  with  her.  She  did  not 
know  that  she  had  already  more  than  half  won  his  good 
opinion,  for  he  was  far  better  pleased  with  her  antagonis- 
tical  demonstrations,  than  he  would  have  been  had  she 
cried  or  ran  from  him,  as  his  sister  Anna  generally  did 
when  he  teased  her.  After  a  few  moments  he  returned 
to  the  parlor,  and  walking  up  to  Mrs.  Nichols,  com 
menced  talking  very  sociably  with  her,  calling  her 
"  Granny,"  and  winking  slily  at  'Lena  as  he  did  so.  Mr. 
Livingstone  had  too  much  good  sense  to  sit  quietly  by 
and  hear  his  mother  ridiculed  by  his  son,  and  in  a  loud, 
stern  voice  he  bade  the  young  gentleman  "  behave  him 
self." 

"  Law,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  "  let  him  talk  if  he 
wants  to.  I  like  to  hear  him.  He's  the  only  grandson 
I've  got." 

This  speech  had  the  effect  of  silencing  John  Jr.  quite 
as  much  as  his  father's  command.  If  he  could  tease  his 
grandmother  by  talking  to  her,  he  would  take  delight  in 
doing  so,  but  if  she  wanted  him  to  talk — that  was  quite 
another  thing.  So  moving  away  from  her,  he  took  a 
seat  near  'Lena,  telling  her  her  dress  was  "  a  heap  too 
short,"  and  occasionally  pinching  her,  just  to  vary  the 
sport !  This  last,  however,  'Lena  returned  with  so  much 
force  that  he  grew  weary  of  the  fun,  and  informing  her 
that  he  was  going  to  a  circus  which  was  in  town  that 
evening,  he  arose  to  leave  the  room. 

Mr.  Livingstone,  who  partially  overheard  what  he  had 
said,  stopped  him  and  asked  "  where  he  was  going  ?  " 

"  Feigning  a  yawn  and  rubbing  his  eyes,  John  Jr. 
replied  that  "  he  was  confounded  sleepy  and  was  going 
to  bed." 

'  'Lena,  where  did  he  say  he  was  going  ?  "  asked  her 
uncle 


MAPLE  GROVE.  43 

'Lena  trembled,  for  John  Jr.  had  clinched  his  fist,  and 
was  shaking  it  threateningly  at  her. 

"  Where  did  he  say  he  was  going  ?  "  repeated  her 
uncle. 

Poor  'Lena  had  never  told  a  lie  in  her  life,  and  now, 
braving  her  cousin's  anger,  she  said,  "  To  the  circus,  sir. 
Oh,  I  wish  you  had  not  asked  me." 

"  You'll  get  your  pay  for  that,"  muttered  John  Jr., 
sullenly  reseating  himself  by  his  father,  who  kept  an  eye 
on  him  until  he  saw  him  safely  in  his  room. 

Much  as  John  Jr.  frightened  'Lena  with  his  threats,  in 
his  heart  he  respected  her  for  telling  the  truth,  and  if  the 
next  morning  on  their  way  home  in  the  stage,  in  which 
his  father  compelled  him  to  take  a  seat,  he  frequently 
found  it  convenient  to  step  on  her  feet,  it  was  more  from 
a  natural  propensity  to  torment  than  from  any  lurking 
feeling  of  revenge.  'Lena  was  nowise  backward  in  re 
turning  his  cousinly  attentions,  and  so  between  an  inter 
change  of  kicks,  wry  faces,  and  so  forth,  they  proceeded 
toward  "  Maple  Grove,"  a  description  of  which  will  be 
given  in  another  chapter. 


CHAPTER  Y. 


THE  residence  of  Mr  Livingstone,  or  rather  of  Mr.  Liv- 
i.igstone's  wife,  was  a  large,  handsome  building,  such  ag 
one  often  finds  in  Kentucky,  particularly  in  the  country. 
Like  most  planter's  houses,  it  stood  at  some  little  distance 
from  the  street,  from  which  its  massive  walls,  wreathed 
with  evergreen,  were  just  discernible.  The  carriage  road 


44  'LENA  RIVERS. 

which  led  to  it  passed  first  through  a  heavy  iron  gate, 
guarded  by  huge  bronze  lions,  so  natural  and  life-like,  that 
Mrs.  Nichols,  when  first  she  saw  them,  uttered  a  cry  of 
fear.  Next  came  a  beautiful  maple  grove,  followed  by  a 
long,  green  lawn,  dotted  here  and  there  with  forest  trees, 
and  having  on  its  right  a  deep  running  brook,  whose  wa 
ters,  farther  on  at  the  rear  of  the  garden,  were  formed  into 
a  miniature  fish-pond. 

The  house  itself  was  of  brick — two  storied,  and  surround 
ed  on  three  sides  with  a  double  piazza,  whose  pillars  were 
entwined  with  climbing  roses,  honey-suckle,  and  running 
vines,  so  closely  interwoven  as  to  give  it  the  appearance 
of  an  immense  summer-house.  In  the  spacious  yard  in 
front,  tall  shade  trees  and  bright  green  grass  were  grow 
ing,  while  in  the  well-kept  garden  at  the  left,  bloomed  an 
endless  variety  of  roses  and  flowering  shrubs,  which  in 
their  season  filled  the  air  with  perfume,  and  made  the  spot 
brilliant  with  beauty.  Directly  through  the  center  of 
this  garden  ran  the  stream  of  which  we  have  spoken,  and 
as  its  mossy  banks  were  never  disturbed,  they  presented 
the  appearance  of  a  soft,  velvety  ridge,  where  each  spring 
the  starry  dandelion  and  the  blue-eyed  violet  grew. 

Across  the  brook  two  small  foot-bridges  had  been  built, 
both  of  which  were  latticed  and  overgrown  by  luxuriant 
grape-vines,  whose  dark,  green  foliage  was  now  inter 
mingled  with  clusters  of  the  rich  purple  fhulu « Atr  tfrb 
right.  aiQd.  ^^;^CM '\Tie~  rear  of  the  building,  was  a 
group  of  linden  trees,  overshadowing  the  white-washed 
houses  of  the  negroes,  who,  imitating  as  far  as  possible 
the  taste  of  their  master,  beautified  their  dwellings  with 
hop-vines,  creepers,  hollyhocks  and  the  like.  Altogether, 
it  was  as  'Lena  said,  "just  the  kind  of  place  which  one 
reads  of  in  stories,"  and  which  is  often  found  at  the  "  sun 
ny  south."  The  interior  of  the  building  corresponded 


MAPLE  GROVE.  4* 

v/ith  the  exterior,  for  with  one  exception,  the  residence 
of  a  wealthy  Englishman,  Mrs.  Livingstone  prided  herself 
upon  having  the  best  furnished  house  in  the  county  ;  con 
sequently  neither  pains  nor  money  had  been  spared  hi  the 
selection  of  the  furniture,  which  was  of  the  most  costly 
kind. 

'Carrie,  the  eldest  of  the  daughters,  was  now  about  thir 
teen  years  of  age.  Proud,  imperious,  deceitful,  and  self- 
willed,  she  was  hated  by  the  servants,  and  disliked  by  her 
equals.  Some  thought  her  pretty.  She  felt  sure  of  it, 
and  many  an  hour  she  spent  before  the  mirror,  admiring 
herself  and  anticipating  the  time  when  she  would  be  a 
grown-up  lady,  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  a  belle.  Her 
mother  unfortunately  belonged  to  that  class  who  seem  to 
think  that  the  chief  aim  in  life  is  to  secure  a  "  brilliant 
match,"  and  thinking  she  could  not  commence  too  soon, 
she  had  early  instilled  into  her  favorite  daughter's  mind 
the  necessity  of  appearing  to  the  best  possible  advantage, 
when  in  the  presence  of  wealth  and  distinction,  pointing 
out  her  own  marriage  as  a  proof  of  the  unhappiness  result 
ing  from  unequal  matches.  In  this  way  Carrie  had  early 
learned  that  her  father  owed  his  present  position  to  her 
mother's  condescension  in  marrying  him — that  he  was 
once  a  poor  boy  living  among  the  northern  hills — that  his 
parents  were  poor,  ignorant  and  vulgar — and  that  there 
was  with  them  a  little  girl,  their  daughter's  child,  who 
never  had  a  father,  and  whom  she  must  never  on  any  oc 
casion  call  her  cousin. 

All  this  had  likewise  been  told  to  Anna,  the  youngest 
daughter,  who  was  about  'Lena's  age,  but  upon  her  it 
made  no  impression.  If  her  father  were  once  poor,  he 
was  in  her  opinion  none  the  worse  for  that — and  if  he 
liked  his  parents,  that  was  a  sufficient  reason  why  she  should 
like  them  too,  and  if  little  'Lena  was  an  orphan,  she  pitied 


46  'LENA  RIVERS. 

her,  and  hoped  she  might  sometime  see  her  and  tell  her 
BO!  Thus  Anna  reasoned,  while  her  mother,  terribly 
shocked  at  her  low-bred  taste,  strove  to  instill  into  her 
mind  some  of  her  own  more  aristocratic  notions.  But  all 
in  vain,  for  Anna  was  purely  democratic,  loving  every 
body  and  beloved  by  everybody  in  return.  It  is  true  she 
had  no  particular  liking  for  books  or  study  of  any  kind, 
but  she  was  gentle  and  affectionate  in  her  manner,  and 
kindly  considerate  of  other  people's  feelings.  With  her 
father  she  was  a  favorite,  and  to  her  he  always  looked  for 
sympathy,  which  she  seldom  failed  to  give — not  in  words, 
it  is  true,  but  whenever  he  seemed  to  be  in  trouble,  she 
would  climb  into  his  lap,  wind  her  arms  around  his  neck, 
and  laying  her  golden  head  upon  his  shoulder,  would  sit 
thus  until  his  brow  and  heart  grew  lighter  as  he  felt  there 
was  yet  something  in  the  wide  world  which  loved  and 
cared  for  him. 

For  Carrie  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  great  expectations, 
but  Anna  she  feared  would  never  make  a  "  brilliant 
match."  For  a  long  time  Anna  meditated  upon  this, 
wondering  what  a  "brilliant  match"  could  mean,  and  at 
last  she  determined  to  seek  an  explanation  from  Captain 
Atherton,  a  bachelor  and  a  millionaire,  who  was  in  the 
habit  of  visiting  them,  and  who  always  noticed  and  pet 
ted  her  more  than  he  did  Carrie.  Accordingly,  the  next 
time  he  came,  and  they  were  alone  in  the  parlor,  she 
broached  the  subject,  asking  him  what  it  meant. 

Laughing  loudly,  the  Captain  drew  her  toward  him, 
saying,  "  Why,  marrying  rich,  you  little  novice.  For  in 
stance,  if  one  of  these  days  you  should  be  my  little  wife, 
I  dare  say  your  mother  would  think  you  had  made  a 
brilliant  match ! "  and  the  well-preserved  gentleman  of 
forty  glanced  complacently  at  himself  in  the  mirror, 


MAPLE  GEOVE.  41 

thinking  how  probable   it  was   that  his  youthful  looks 
would  be  unimpaired  for  at  least  ten  years  to  come  ! 

Anna  laughed,  for  to  her  his  words  then  conveyed  nc 
serious  meaning,  but  with  more  than  her  usual  quickness 
she  replied,  that  "  she  would  as  soon  marry  her  grand 
father." 

With  Mrs.  Livingstone  the  reader  is  partially  acquaint 
ed.  In  her  youth  she  had  been  pretty,  and  now  at  thir 
ty-eight  she  was  not  without  pretensions  to  beauty,  not 
withstanding  her  sallow  complexion  and  sunken  eyes. 
Her  hair,  which  was  very  abundant,  was  bright  and  glos 
sy,  and  her  mouth,  in  which  the  dentist  had  done  his  best, 
would  have  been  handsome,  had  it  not  been  for  a  certain 
draw  at  the  corners,  which  gave  it  a  scornful  and  rather 
disagreeable  expression.  In  her  disposition  she  was  over- 
bearing  and  tyrannical,  fond  of  ruling,  and  deeming  her 
husband  a  monster  of  ingratitude  if  ever  in  any  way  he 
manifested  a  spirit  of  rebellion.  Didn't  she  marry  him  ? 
and  now  they  were  married,  didn't  her  money  support 
him  ?  And  wasn't  it  exceedingly  amiable  in  her  always 
to  speak  of  their  children  as  ours!  But  as  for  the  rest, 
'twas  my  house,  my  servants,  my  carriage,  and  my 
horses.  All  mine — "  Mrs.  John  Livingstone's— Miss  Ma 
tilda  Richards  that  was  !  " 

Occasionally,  however,  her  husband's  spirit  was  roused, 
and  then,  after  a  series  of  tears,  sick-headaches,  and  then 
spasms,  "  Miss  Matilda  Richards  that  was "  was  com- 
pelled  to  yield,  her  face  for  many  days  wearing  the  look 
of  a  much-injured,  heart-broken  woman.  Still  her  influ 
ence  over  him  was  great,  else  she  had  never  so  effectu- 
ally  weakened  every  tie  which  bound  him  to  his  native 
home,  making  him  ashamed  of  his  parents  and  of  every, 
thing  pertaining  to  them.  When  her  husband  first  wrote 
to  her  that  his  father  was  dead,  and  that  he  had  promised 


*8  'LENA  RIVERS. 

to  take  charge  of  his  mother  and  'Lena,  she  flew  into  a  vio 
lent  rage,  which  was  increased  ten-fold  when  she  received 
his  second  letter,  wherein  he  announced  his  intention  of 
bringing  them  home  in  spite  of  her.  Bursting  into  tears, 
she  declared  "  she'd  leave  the  house  before  she'd  have  it 
filled  up  with  a  lot  of  paupers.  Who  did  John  Nichols 
think  he  was,  and  who  did  he  think  she  was !  Besides 
that,  where  was  he  going  to  put  them  ?  for  there  wasn't  a 
place  for  them  that  she  knew  of!  " 

"  Why,  mother,"  said  Anna,  who  was  pleased  with  the 
prospect  of  a  new  grandmother  and  cousin,  "  Why,  moth 
er,  what  a  story.  There's  the  two  big  chambers  and  bed 
rooms,  besides  the  one  next  to  Carrie's  and  mine.  O  do 
put  them  in  there.  It'll  be  so  nice  to  have  grandma  and 
cousin  'Lena  so  near  me." 

"  Anna  Livingstone ! "  returned  the  indignant  lady, 
"  Never  let  me  hear  you  say  grandma  and  cousin  again." 

"  But  they  be  grandma  and  cousin,"  persisted  Anna, 
while  her  mother  commenced  lamenting  the  circumstance 
which  had  made  them  so,  wishing,  as  she  had  often  done 
before,  that  she  had  never  married  John  Nichols. 

"  I  reckon  you  are  not  the  only  one  that  wishes  so," 
elily  whispered  John  Jr.,  who  was  a  witness  to  her 
emotion. 

Anna  was  naturally  of  an  inquiring  mind,  and  her  moth 
er's  last  remark  awoke  within  her  a  new  and  strange  train 
of  thought,  causing  her  to  wonder  whose  little  girl  she 
would  have  been,  her  father's  or  mother's,  in  case  they 
had  each  married  some  one  else !  As  there  was  no  one 
whose  opinion  Anna  dared  to  ask,  the  question  is  un 
doubtedly  to  this  day,  with  her,  unsolved. 

The  next  morning  when  Mrs.  Livingstone  arose,  her 
anger  of  the  day  before  was  somewhat  abated,  and  know 
ing  from  past  experience  that  it  was  useless  to  resist  her 


MAPLE   GROVE.  40 

husband  when  once  he  was  determined,  she  wisely  con 
eluded  that  as  they  were  now  probably  on  the  road,  it 
tvas  best  to  try  to  endure,  for  a  time,  at  least,  what  could 
oot  well  be  helped.  And  now  arose  the  perplexing  ques 
tion,  "  What  should  she  do  with  them  ?  where  should  she 
put  them  that  they  would  be  the  most  out  of  the  way  ? 
for  she  could  never  suffer  them  to  be  round  when  she 
had  company."  The  chamber  of  which  Anna  had  spoken 
was  out  of  the  question,  for  it  was  too  nice,  and  besides 
that,  it  was  reserved  for  the  children  of  her  New  Orleans 
friends,  who  nearly  every  summer  came  up  to  visit  her. 

At  the  rear  of  the  building  was  a  long,  low  room,  con 
taining  a  fire-place  and  two  windows,  which  looked  out 
upon  the  negro  quarters  and  the  hemp  fields  beyond. 
This  room,  which  in  the  summer  was  used  for  storing 
feather-beds,  blankets,  and  so  forth,  was  plastered,  but 
minus  either  paper  or  paint.  Still  it  was  quite  comforta 
ble,  "better  than  they  were  accustomed  to  at  home," 
Mrs.  Livingstone  said,  and  this  she  decided  to  give  them. 
Accordingly  the  negroes  were  set  at  work  scrubbing  the 
floor,  washing  the  windows,  and  scouring  the  sills,  until 
the  room  at  least  possessed  the  virtue  of  being  clean.  A 
faded  carpet,  discarded  as  good  for  nothing,  and  over 
which  the  rats  had  long  held  their  nightly  revels,  was 
brought  to  light,  shaken,  mended,  and  nailed  down — then 
came  a  bedstead,  which  Mrs.  Livingston  had  designed  as 
a  Christmas  gift  to  one  of  the  negroes,  but  which  ol 
course  would  do  well  enough  for  her  mother-in-law. 
Next  followed  an  old  wooden  rocking-chair,  whose  an 
cestry  Anna  had  tried  in  vain  to  trace,  and  which  Carrie 
had  often  proposed  burning.  This,  with  two  or  three 
more  chairs  of  a  later  date,  a  small  wardrobe,  and  a 
square  table,  completed  the  furniture  of  the  room,  if  we 
except  tlu'  plain  muslin  curtains  which  shaded  the  win- 
C  4 


50  'LENA  RIVERS. 

dows,  destitute  of  blinds.  Taking  it  by  itself,  the  room 
looked  tolerably  well,  but  when  compared  with  the  richly 
furnished  apartments  around  it,  it  seemed  meager  and 
poor  indeed ;  "  but  if  they  wanted  anything  better,"  Mrs. 
Livingstone  said,  "  they  could  get  it  themselves.  They 
were  welcome  to  make  any  alterations  they  chose." 

This  mode  of  reasoning  hardly  satisfied  Anna,  and  un 
known  to  her  mother  she  took  from  her  own  chamber  a 
handsome  hearth-rug,  and  carrying  it  to  her  grandmoth 
er's  room,  laid  it  before  the  fire-place.  Coming  acciden 
tally  upon  a  roll  of  green  paper,  she,  with  the  help  of 
Corinda,  a  black  girl,  made  some  shades  for  the  windows, 
which  faced  the  west,  rendering  the  room  intolerably  hot 
during  the  summer  season.  Then,  at  the  suggestion  of 
Corinda,  who,  like  many  of  her  race,  was  possessed  of 
considerable  taste,  she  looped  back  the  muslin  curtains 
Avith  some  green  ribbons,  which  she  had  intended  using 
for  her  "  dolly's  dress."  The  bare  appearance  of  the 
table  troubled  her,  but  by  dint  of  rummaging,  she  brought 
to  light  a  cast-oif  spread,  which,  though  soiled  and  wornv 
was  on  one  side  quite  handsome. 

"Now,  if  we  only  had  something  for  the  mantel,"  said 
she ;  "  it  seems  so  empty." 

Corinda  thought  a  moment,  and  then  rolling  up  the 
whites  of  her  eyes,  replied,  "  Don't  you  mind  them  little 
pitchers,"  (meaning  vases,)  "  which  Master  Athcrton  done 
gin  you  ?  They'd  look  mighty  fine  up  thar,  full  of  sprigs 
and  posies." 

Without  hesitating  a  moment  Anna  brought  the  vases, 
and  as  she  did  not  know  the  exact  time  when  her  grand 
mother  would  arrive,  nhe  determined  to  fill  them  with 
fresh  flowers  every  morning. 

"  There,  it  looks  a  heap  better,  don't  it,  Carrie  ?  "  said 


MAPLE  GROVE.  ol 

Bhe  to  her  sister,  wiio  chanced  to  be  passing  the  door  and 
looked  in. 

"  You  must  be  smart,"  answered  Carrie,  "  taking  so 
much  pains  just  for  them ;  and  as  I  live,  if  you  havn't  got 
those  elegant  vases  that  Captain  Atherton  gave  you  for 
a  birth-day  present !  I  know  mother  won't  like  it.  I 
mean  to  tell  her ;"  and  away  she  ran  with  the  important 
news. 

"  There,  I  told  you  so,"  said  she,  quickly  returning. 
"  She  says  you  carry  them  straight  back  and  let  the  room 
alone." 

Anna  began  to  cry,  saying  "  the  vases  were  her's,  and 
she  should  think  she  might  do  what  she  pleased  with 
them." 

"  What  did  you  go  and  blub  for,  you  great  for  shame, 
you  ? "  exclaimed  John  Jr.,  suddenly  appearing  in  the 
doorway,  at  the  same  time  giving  Carrie  a  push,  which 
set  her  to  crying,  and  brought  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  the 
scene  of  action. 

"  Can't  my  vases  stay  in  here  ?  Nobody  '11  hurt  'em, 
and  they'll  look  so  pretty,"  said  Anna. 

"  Can't  that  hateful  John  behave,  and  let  me  alone  ?  " 
said  Carrie. 

"And  can't  Carrie  quit  sticking  her  nose  in  other  folks' 
business  ?  "  chimed  in  John  Jr. 

"  Oh  Lordy,  what  a  fuss,"  said  Corinda,  while  poor 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  half  distracted,  took  refuge  under  one 
of  her  dreadful  headaches,  and  telling  her  children  "  to 
fight  their  own  battles  and  let  her  alone,"  returned  to  her 
room. 

"Abody'd  s'pose  marster's  kin  wan't  of  no  kind  o' 
count,"  said  Aunt  Milly,  the  head  cook,  to  a  group  of 
sables,  who,  in  the  kitchen,  were  discussing  the  furniturf 
of  the  "  trump'ry  room,"  as  they  were  in  the  habit  o/ 


62  'LENA  RIVERS. 

calling  the  chamber  set  apart  for  Mrs.  Nichols.  "  Yes, 
they  would  s'pose  they  warn't  of  no  kind  o'  count,  the 
way  miss  goes  on,  ravin'  and  tarin',  and  puttin'  'em  off 
with  low-lived  truck  that  we  black  folks  wouldn't  begin 
to  tache  with  the  tongs.  Massy  knows  ef  my  ole  mother 
warn't  dead  and  gone  to  kingdom  come,  I  should  never 
think  o'  sarvin'  her  so,  and  I  don't  set  myself  up  to  be 
nothin'  but  an  ole  nigger,  and  a  black  one  at  that.  But 
Lor',  that's  the  way  with  more'n  half  the  white  folks. 
They  jine  the  church,  and  then  they  think  they  done  got 
a  title  deed  to  one  of  them  houses  up  in  heaven,  (that 
nobody  ever  built,)  sure  enough.  Goin'  straight  thar,  as 
fast  as  a  span  of  ra"ce-horces  can  carry  'em.  Ki !  Won't 
they  be  disappmted,  some  on  'em,  and  Miss  Matilda  long 
the  rest,  when  she  drives  up,  bosses  all  a  reekin'  sweat, 
and  spects  to  walk  straight  into  the  best  room,  but  is  told 
to  go  to  the  kitchen  and  turn  hoe-cakes  for  us  niggers, 
who  are,  eatin'  at  the  fust  table,  with  silver  forks  and 
napkins — ?  " 

Here  old  Milly  stopped  to  breathe,  and  her  daughter 
Vine,  who  had  listened  breathlessly  to  her  mother's  de 
scription  of  the  "  good  time  coming,"  asked  "  when  these 
things  come  to  pass,  if  Miss  Carrie  wouldn't  have  to  swing 
the  feathers  over  the  table  to  keep  off  the  flies,  instead 
of  herself?" 

"Yes,  that  she  will,  child,"  returned  her  mother. 
"  Things  is  all  gwine  to  be  changed  in  the  wink  of  your 
eye.  Miss  Anna  read  that  very  tex'  to  me  last  Sunday, 
and  I  knew  in  a  minit  what  it  meant.  Now  thar's  Miss 
Anna,  blessed  lamb.  She's  one  of  'em  that'll  wear  her 
white  gowns  and  stay  in  t'other  room,  with  her  face  shinin' 
like  an  ile  lamp  !  " 

While  this  interesting  conversation  was  going  on  in  the 
kitchen,  John  Jr.,  in  the  parlor,  was  teasing  his  mothei 


MAPLE  GROVE.  58 

for  money,  with  which  to  go  up  to  LexHigton  the  next 
day.  "  You  may  just  as  well  give  it  to  me  without  any 
fuss,"  said  he,  "  for  if  you  don't,  I'll  get  my  bills  at  the 
Phoenix  charged.  The  old  man  is  good,  and  they'll  trust. 
But  then  a  feller  feels  more  independent  when  he  can  pay 
down,  and  treat  a  friend,  if  he  likes ;  so  hand  over  four  or 
five  V's." 

At  first  Mrs.  Livingstone  refused,  but  her  head  ached 
BO  hard  and  her  "  nerves  trembled  so,"  that  she  did  not 
feel  equal  to  the  task  of  contending  with  John  Jr.,  who 
was  always  sure  in  the  end  to  have  his  own  way.  Yield 
ing  at  last  to  his  importunities,  she  gave  him  fifteen  dol 
lars,  charging  him  to  "  keep  out  of  bad  company  and  be 
a  good  boy." 

"  Trust  me  for  that,"  said  he,  and  pulling  the  tail  of 
Anna's  pet  kitten,  upsetting  Carrie's  work-box,  poking  a 
black  baby's  ribs  with  his  walking  cane,  and  knocking 
down  a  cob-house,  which  "  Thomas  Jefferson  "  had  been 
all  day  building,  he  mounted  his  favorite  "  Firelock,"  and 
together  with  a  young  negro,  rode  off. 

"  The  Lord  send  us  a  little  peace  now,"  s.aid  Aunt  Milly, 
tossing  her  squalling  baby  up  in  the  air,  and  telling  Thomas 
Jefferson  not  to  cry,  "for  his  young  master  was  done 
gone  off." 

"  And  I  hope  to  goodness  he'll  stay  off  a  spell,"  she 
added,  "  for  thar's  ole  Sam  to  pay  the  whole  time  he's  at 
home,  and  if  ever  thar  was  a  tickled  critter  in  this  world 
it's  me,  when  he  clar's  out." 

"  I'm  glad,  too,"  said  Anna,  who  had  been  sent  to  the 
kitchen  to  stop  the  screaming ; "  and  I  wish  he'd  stay 
ever  so  long,  for  I  don't  take  a  bit  of  comfort  when  he's 
at  home." 

"  Great  hateful !  I  wish  he  didn't  live  here,"  said 
Carrie,  gathering  up  her  spools,  thimble  and  scissors, 


54  'LENA  RIVERS. 

while  Mrs.  Livingstone,  feeling  that  his  absence  had  taken 
a  load  from  her  shoulders,  settled  herself  upon  her  silken 
lounge  and  tried  to  sleep. 

Amid  all  this  rejoicing  at  his  departure,  John  Jr.  put 
spurs  to  the  fleet  Firelock,  who  soon  carried  hina  to  Lex 
ington,  where,  as  we  have  seen,  he  came  unexpectedly 
upon  his  father,  who,  not  daring  to  trust  him  on  horse 
back,  lest  he  should  play  the  truant,  took  him  into  the 
stage  with  himself,  leaving  Firelock  to  the  care  of  the 
negro. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE     ARRIVAL. 

"  OH,  mother,  get  up  quick — the  stage  has  driven  up 
at  the  gate,  and  I  reckon  pa  has  come,"  said  Anna,  burst 
ing  into  the  room  where  her  mother,  who  was  suffering 
from  a  headache,  was  still  in  bed. 

Raising  herself  upon  her  elbow,  and  pushing  aside  the 
rich,  heavy  curtains,  Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  out  upon  the 
mud-bespattered  vehicle,  from  which  a  leg,  encased  in  a 
black  and  white  stocking,  was  just  making  its  egress.  "  Oh, 
heavens ! "  said  she,  burying  her  face  again  in  the  downy 
pillows.  Woman's  curiosity,  however,  soon  prevailed 
over  all  other  feelings,  and  again  looking  out  she  obtained 
a  fuh1  view  of  her  mother-in-law,  who,  having  emerged 
from  the  coach,  was  picking  out  her  boxes,  trunks,  and  so 
,fQi;th.  When  they  were  all  found,  Mr.  Livingstone  ordered 
two  negroes  to  carry  them  to  the  side  piazza,  where  they 
were  soon  mounted  by  three  or  four  little  darkies,  Thomas 
Jeiferson  among  the  rest. 


THE    ARRIVAL.  55 

"John,  John,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  "them  niggers  won't 
gcent  my  things  will  they  ?  " 

"Don't  talk,  granny,"  whispered  'Lena,  painfully  con 
scious  of  the  curious  eyes  fixed  upon  them  by  the  bevy  of 
blacks,  who  had  come  out  to  greet  their  master,  and  who,, 
with  sidelong  glances  at  each  other,  were  inspecting  the 
new  comers. 

"Don't  talk!  why  not?"  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  rather 
sharply.  "  This  is  a  free  country  I  suppose."  Then  be 
thinking  herself,  she  added  quickly,  "  Oh,  I  forgot,  't  aiut 
free  here  !  " 

After  examining  the  sachel  and  finding  that  the  night 
gown  sleeve  was  'safe,  Mrs.  Nichols  took  up  her  line  of 
march  for  the  house,  herself  carrying  her  umbrella  and 
band-box,  which  she  would  not  intrust  to  the  care  of  the 
negroes,  "  as  like  enough  they'd  break  the  umberell,  or 
squash  her  caps." 

"  The  trumpery  room  is  plenty  good  enough  for  'em," 
thought  Corinda,  retreating  into  the  kitchenand  cutting 
sundry  flourishes  in  token  of  her  contempt. 

The  moment  'Lena  came  in  sight,  Mrs.  Livingstone  ex- 
claimed,  "  Oh,  mercy,  which  is  the  oldest  ?  "  and  truly, 
poor  'Lena  did  present  a  sorry  figure. 

Her  bonnet,  never  very  handsome  or  fashionable,  had 
received  an  ugly  crook  in  front,  which  neither  her  grand- 
mother  or  uncle  had  noticed,  and  of  which  John  Jr. 
would  not  tell  her,  thinking  that  the  worse  she  looked  the 
more  fun  he  would  have !  Her  skirts  were  not  very  full, 
and  her  dress  hung  straight  around  her,  making  her  of  the 
same  bigness  from  her  head  to  her  feet.  Her  shoes,  which 
had  been  given  to  her  by  one  of  the  neighbors,  were  alto- 
gether  too  large,  and  it  was  with  considerable  difficulty 
that  she  couJd  keep  them  on,  but  then  as  they  were  a  pres- 


66  'LENA  RIVERS. 

ent,  Mrs.  Nichols  said  "  it  was  a  pity  not  to  get  all  tlie 
good  out  of  them  she  could." 

In  front  'of  herself  and  grandmother,  walked  Mr.  Liv 
ingstone,  moody,  silent,  and  cross.  Behind  them  was 
John  Jr.,  mimicking  first  'Lena's  gait  and  then  his  grand 
mother's.  The  negroes,  convulsed  with  laughter,  darted 
hither  and  thither,  running  against  and  over  each  other, 
and  finally  disappearing,  some  behind  the  house  and  some 
into  the  kitchen,  and  all  retaining  a  position  from  which 
they  could  have  a  full  view  of  the  proceedings.  On  the 
piazza  stood  Anna  and  Carrie,  the  one  with  her  handker 
chief  stuffed  in  her  mouth,  and  the  other  with  her  mouth 
open,  astounded  at  the  unlocked  for  spectacle. 

"  Oh,  what  shall  I  do,  what  shall  I  do  ?  "  groaned  Mrs. 
Livingstone. 

"  Do  ?  Get  up  and  dress  yourself,  and  come  and  see 
your  new  relations  :  that's  what  I  should  do,"  answered 
John  Jr.,  who,  tired  of  mimicking,  had  run  forward,  and 
now  rushed  unceremoniously  into  his  mother's  sleeping- 
room,  leaving  the  door  open  behind  him. 

"John  Livingstone,  what  do  you  mean?"  said  she; 
"  shut  that  door  this  minute." 

Feigning  not  to  hear  her,  John  Jr.  ran  back  to  the 
piazza,  which  he  reached  just  in  time  to  hear  the  presen 
tation  of  his  sisters. 

"  This  is  Carrie,  and  this  is  Anna,"  said  Mr.  Living 
stone,  pointing  to  each  one  as  he  pronounced  her  name. 

Marching  straight  up  to  Carrie  and  extending  her  hand, 
Mrs.  Nichols  exclaimed,  "  Now  I  want  to  know  if  this  is 
Car'line.  I'd  no  idee  she  was  so  big.  You  pretty  well, 
Car'line  ?  " 

Very  haughtily  Carrie  touched  the  ends  of  her  grand 
mother's  fingers,  and  with  stately  gravity  replied  that  she 
was  well. 


THE   ARRIVAL.  57 

Turning  next  to  Anna,  Mrs.  Nichols  continued,  "  And 
this  is  Anny.  Looks  weakly  'pears  to  me,  kind  of  blue 
around  the  eyes  as  though  she  was  fitty.  Never  have  fits, 
do  you,  dear  ?  " 

"No,  ma'am,"  answered  Anna,  otruggling  hard  to  keep 
from  laughing  outright. 

Here  Mr.  Livingstone  inquired  for  his  wife,  and  on  be 
ing  told  that  she  was  sick,  started  for  her  room. 

"  Sick  ?  Is  your  marm  sick  ?  »  asked  Mrs.  Nichols  of 
John  Jr.  "  Wall,  I  guess  I'll  go  right  in  and  see  if  I  can't 
do  somethin'  for  her.  I'm  tolerable  good  at  nussin'." 

Following  her  son,  who  did  not  observe  her,  she  entered 
unannounced  into  the  presence  of  her  elegant  daughter- 
in-law,  who,  with  a  little  shriek,  covered  her  head  with  the 
bed-clothes.  Knowing  that  she  meant  well,  and  never 
dreaming  that  she  was  intruding,  Mrs.  Nichols  walked  up 
to  the  bedside,  saying,  "How  de  do,  'Tilda  ?  I  suppose 
you  know  I'm  your  mother — come  all  the  way  from  Massa 
chusetts  to  live  with  you.  What  is  the  matter  ?  Do  you 
take  anything  for  your  sickness  ?  " 

A  groan  was  Mrs.  Livingstone's  only  answer. 

"  Little  hystericky,  I  guess,"  suggested  Mrs.  Nichols, 
adding  that  "  settin'  her  feet  in  middlin'  hot  water  is  good 
for  that." 

"  She  is  nervous,  and  the  sight  of  strangers  makes  her 
worse.  So  I  reckon  you'd  better  go  out  for  the  present," 
said  Mr.  Livingstone,  who  really  pitied  his  wife.  Then 
calling  Corinda,  he  bade  her  show  his  mother  to  her 
room.  ^ 

Corinda  obeyed,  and  Mrs.  Nichols  followed  her,  asking 
Her  on  the  way  "what  her  surname  was,  how  old  she  was, 
if  she  knew  how  to  read,  and  if  she  hadn't  a  good  deal 
rather  be  free  than  to  be  a  slave ! "  to  which  Corinda  re 
plied,  that  "  she  didn't  know  what  a  surname  meant,  that 


68  'LENA   RIVERA 

she  didn't  know  how  olcl  she  was,  that  she  didn't  know 
how  to  read,  and  that  she  didn't  know  whether  she'd  like 
to  be  free  or  not,  but  reckoned  she  shouldn't." 

"  A  half-witted  gal  that,"  thought  Mrs.  Nichols,  "  and 
I  guess  'Tilda  don't  set  much  store  by  her."  Then  drop- 
ping  into  the  wooden  rocking  chair  and  laying  aside  her 
bonnet,  she  for  the  first  tune  noticed  that  'Lena  was  not 
with  her,  and  asked  Corinda  to  go  for  her. 

Corinda  complied,  leaving  the  room  just  in  time  to  stifle 
a  laugh,  as  she  saw  Mrs.  Nichols  stoop  down  to  examine 
the  hearth-rug,  wondering  "  how  much  it  cost  when  't  was 
new." 

We  left  'Lena  standing  on  the  steps  of  the  piazza.  At 
a  glance  she  had  taken  in  the  whole— had  comprehended 
that  there  was  no  affinity  whatever  between  herself  and 
the  objects  around  her,  and  a  wild,  intense  longing  filled 
her  heart  to  be  once  more  among  her  native  hills.  She 
had  witnessed  the  merriment  of  the  blacks,  the  scornful 
curl  of  Carrie's  lip,  the  half-suppressed  ridicule  of  Anna, 
when  they  met  her  grandmother,  and  now  uncertain  of 
her  own  reception,  she  stood  before  her  cousins  not  know 
ing  whether  to  advance  or  run  away.  For  a  moment 
there  was  an  awkward  silence,  and  then  John  Jr.,  bent  on 
mischief,  whispered  to  Carrie,  "Look  at  that  pinch  in 
her  bonnet,  and  just  see  her  shoes !  Big  as  little  sail 
boats  1 " 

This  was  too  much  for  'Lena.  She  already  disliked 
John  Jr.,  and  now,  flying  into  a  violent  passion,  she  drew 
off  her  shoes,  and  hurling  them  at  the  young  gentleman's 
head,  fled  away,  away,  she  knew  not,  cared  not  whither, 
po  that  she  got  out  of  sight  and  hearing.  Coming  at  last 
to  the  arbor  bridge  across  the  brook  in  the  garden,  she 
paused  for  breath,  and  throwing  herself  upon  a  seat,  burst 
into  a  flood  of  tears.  For  several  minutes  she  sobbed  sc 


THE    ARRIVAL.  59 

loudly  that  she  did  not  hear  the  sound  of  footsteps  upon 
the  graveled  walk.  Anna  had  followed  her,  partly  out  of 
curiosity,  and  partly  out  of  pity,  the  latter  of  which  pre 
ponderated  when  she  saw  how  bitterly  her  cousin  was 
weeping.  Going  up  to  her  she  said,  "  Don't  cry  so,  'Lena. 
Look  up  and  talk.  It's  Anna,  your  cousin." 

'Lena  had  not  yet  recovered  from  her  angry  lit,  and 
thinking  Anna  only  came  to  tease  her,  and  perhaps  again 
ridicule  her  bonnet,  she  tore  the  article  from  her  head,  arid 
bending  it  up  double,  threw  it  into  the  stream,  which  car 
ried  it  down  to  the  fish-pond,  where  for  two  or  three 
hours  it  furnished  amusement  for  some  little  negroes,  who, 
calling  it  a  crab,  fished  for  it  with  hook  and  line !  For  a 
moment  Anna  stood  watching  the  bonnet  as  it  sailed  along 
down  the  stream,  thinking  it  looked  better  there  than  on 
its  owner's  head,  but  wondering  why  'Lena  had  thrown  it 
away.  Then  again  addressing  her  cousin,  she  asked 
why  she  had  done  so  ? 

"  It's  a  homely  old  thing,  and  I  hate  it,"  answered  'Lena, 
again  bursting  into  tears.  "  I  hate  everybody,  and  I  wish  I 
was  dead,  or  back  in  Massachusetts,  I  don't  care  which ! " 

With  her  impressions  of  the  "  Bay  State,"  where  her 
mother  said  folks  lived  on  "cold  beans  and  codfish," 
Anna  thought  she  should  prefer  the  first  alternative,  but 
she  did  not  say  so  ;  and  after  a  little  she  tried  again  to  com 
fort  'Lena,  telling  her  "  she  liked  her,  or  at  least  she  was 
going  to  like  her  a  heap." 

"No,  you  ain't,"  returned  'Lena.  "You  laughed  at 
me  and  granny  both.  I  saw  you  do  it,  and  you  think  I 
don't  know  anything,  but  I  do.  I've  been  through  01- 
ney's  geography,  and  Colburn's  arithmetic  twice !  " 

This  was  more  than  Anna  could  say.  She  had  no  schol 
arship  of  which  to  boast ;  but  she  had  a  heart  brim  full 
of  love,  and  in  reply  to  'Lena's  accusation  of  having  laughed 


00  'LENA    RIVERS. 

at  her,  she  replied,  "  I  know  I  laughed,  for  grandma  looked 
so  funny  I  couldn't  help  it.  But  I  won't  any  more.  I 
pity  you  because  your  mother  is  dead,  and  you  never  had 
any  father,  ma  says." 

This  made  'Lena  cry  again,  while  Anna  continued : 
"  Pa'll  buy  you  some  new  clothes  I  reckon,  and  if  he  don't 
I'll  give  you  some  of  mine,  for  I've  got  heaps,  and  they'll 
fit  you  I  most  know.  Here's  my  mark — "  pointing  to  a 
cut  upon  the  door-post.  "  Here's  mine,  and  Carrie's,  and 
brother's.  Stand  up  and  see  if  you  don't  measure  like 

1  do." 

'Lena  complied,  and  to  Anna's  great  joy  they  were  just 
of  a  height. 

"  I'm  so  glad,"  said  she.  "  Now,  come  to  my  room  and 
Corinda  will  fix  you  up  mighty  nice  before  mother  sees 
you." 

Hand-in-hand  the  two  girls  started  for  the  house,  but 
had  not  gone  far  when  they  heard  some  one  calling,  "  Ho, 
Miss  'Lena,  whar  is  you  ?  Ole  miss  done  want  you."  At 
the  same  time  Corinda  made  her  appearance  round  the 
corner  of  the  piazza. 

"  Here,  Cora,"  said  Anna.  "  Come  with  me  to  my 
room ;  I  want  you." 

With  a  broad  grin  Corinda  followed  her  young  mis 
tress,  while  'Lena,  never  having  been  accustomed  to  any 
negro  save  the  one  with  whom  many  New  England  chil 
dren  are  threatened  when  they  cry,  clung  closer  to  Anna's 
Bide,  occasionally  casting  a  timid  glance  toward  the  dark- 
browed  girl  who  followed  them.  In  the  upper  hall  they 
met  with  Carrie,  who  in  passing  'Lena  held  back  her  dress, 
as  if  fearing  contamination  from  a  contact  with  her  cousin's 
plainer  garments.  Painfully  alive  to  the  slightest  insult, 
'Lena  reddened,  while  Anna  said,  "  Never  mind — that's 
just  like  Cad,  but  nobody  cares  for  Jier?* 


THE    ARRIVAI*  61 

Thus  reassured  'Lena  followed  on,  until  they  reached 
Anna's  room,  which  they  were  about  to  enter,  when  the 
shrill  voice  of  Mrs.  Nichols  fell  upon  their  ears,  calling, 
"  'Leny,  'Leny,  where  upon  airth  is  she  ?  " 

"  Let's  go  to  her  first,"  said  'Lena,  and  leading  the  way 
Anna  soon  ushered  her  into  her  grandmother's  room, 
which,  child  as  she  was,  'Lena  readily  saw  was  far  differ- 
ent  from  the  handsome  apartments  of  which  she  had  ob 
tained  a  passing  glance. 

But  Mrs.  Nichols  had  not  thought  of  this — and  was 
doubtless  better  satisfied  with  her  present  quarters  than 
she  would  have  been  with  the  best  furnished  chamber  in 
the  house.  The  moment  her  granddaughter  appeared, 
she  exclaimed,  "  'Leny  Rivers,  where  have  you  been  ?  I 
was  worried  to  death,  for  fear  you  might  be  runnin'  after 
some  of  them  paltry  niggers.  And  now  whilst  I  think  on't, 
I  charge  you  never  to  go  a  nigh  'em ;  I'd  no  idee  they 
were  such  half-naked,  nasty  critters." 

This  prohibition  was  a  novelty  to  Anna,  who  spent  many 
happy  hours  with  her  sable-hued  companions,  never  deem 
ing  herself  the  worse  for  it.  Her  grandmother's  first  re 
mark,  however,  struck  her  still  more  forcibly,  and  she  im 
mediately  asked,  "  Grandma,  what  did  you  call 'Lena,  just 
now  ?  'Lena  what  ?  " 

"  I  called  her  by  her  name,  'Lena  Rivers.  What  should 
I  call  her  ?  "  returned  Mrs.  Nichols. 

"  Why,  I  thought  her  name  was  'Lena  Nichols ;  ma 
said  'twas,"  answered  Anna. 

Mrs.  Nichols  was  very  sensitive  to  any  slight  cast  upon 
'Lena's  birth,  and  she  rather  tartly  informed  Anna,  that 
"  her  mother  didn't  know  everything,"  adding  that  "  'Le 
na's  father  was  Mr.  Rivers,  and  there  wasn't  half  so  much 
reason  why  she  should  be  called  Nichols  as  there  was  why 
Anna  should,  for  that  was  her  father's  name,  the  one  bj 


62  'LENA  RIVERS. 

which  he  was  baptized,  the  same  day  with  Nancy  Sco van- 
dyke,  who's  jest  his  age,  only  he  was  born  about  a  quarter 
past  four  in  the  morning,  and  she  not  till  some  time  in 
the  afternoon  ! " 

"  But  where  is  Mr.  Rivers  ?  "  asked  Anna,  more  in 
terested  in  him  than  in  the  exact  minute  of  her  father's 
birth. 

"  The  Lord  only  knows,"  returned  Mrs.  Nichols,  add 
ing,  that  "  little  girls  shouldn't  ask  too  many  questions." 

This  silenced  Anna,  and  satisfied  her,  too,  that  there 
was  some  mystery  connected  with  'Lena,  which  she  must 
not  try  to  penetrate.  The  mention  of  Nancy  Scovandyke 
reminded  Mrs.  Nichol*  of  the  dishes  which  that  lady  had 
packed  away,  and  anxious  to  see  if  they  were  safe,  she 
turned  to  'Lena,  saying,  "  I  guess  we'll  have  time  before 
dinner  to  unpack  my  trunks,  for  I  want  to  know  how  the 
crockery  stood  the  racket.  Anny,  you  run-down  and 
tell  your  pa  to  fetch  'em  up  here,  that's  a  good  girl." 

In  her  eagerness  to  know  what  those  weather-beaten 
boxes  contained,  Anna  forgot  her  scheme  of  dressing 
'Lena,  and  ran  down,  not  to  call  her  father,  but  the  black 
boy,  Adam.  It  took  her  a  long  time  to  find  him,  and 
Mrs.  Nichols,  growing  impatient,  determined  to  go  her 
self,  spite  of  'Lena's  entreaties  that  she  would  stay  where 
she  was.  Passing  down  the  long  stairway,  and  out  upon 
the  piazza,  she  espied  a  negro  girl  on  her  hands  and  knees 
engaged  in  cleaning  the  steps  with  a  cloth.  Instantly  re 
membering  her  mop,  she  greatly  lamented  that  she  had 
left  it  behind—"  'twould  come  so  handy  now,"  thought 
she,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it. 

Walking  up  to  the  girl,  whose  name  she  did  not  know, 
she  said,  "  Sissy,  can  you  tell  me  where  John  is  ?  " 

Quickly  "Sissy's"  ivories  became  visible,  as  she  replied 
"  Wo  hain't  got  any  such  nigger  as  John." 


THE  ARRIVAL.  63 

With  a  silent  invective  upon  negroes  in  general,  and 
this  one  in  particular,  Mrs.  Nichols  choked,  stammered, 
and  finally  said,  "  I  didn't  ask  for  a  nigger  •  I  want  your 
master,  John  ! " 

Had  the  old  lady  been  a  Catholic,  she  would  havo 
crossed  herself  for  thus  early  breaking  her  promise  to 
Nancy  Scovandyke.  As  it  was,  she  mentally  asked  for 
giveness,  and  as  the  colored  girl  "  didn't  know  where  mars- 
ter  was,"  but  "  reckoned  he  had  gone  somewhar,"  she 
turned  aside,  and  seeking  her  son's  room,  again  en 
tered  unannounced.  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  was  up  and 
dressed,  frowned  darkly  upon  her  visitor.  But  Mrs. 
Nichols  did  not  heed  it,  and  advancing  forward,  she  said, 
"  Do  you  feel  any  better,  'Tilda  ?  I'd  keep  kinder  still  to 
day,  and  not  try  to  do  much,  for  if  you  feel  any  consarned 
about  the  housework,  I'd  just  as  lief  see  to't  a  little  after 
dinner  as  not." 

"  I  have  all  confidence  in  Milly's  management,  and  sel 
dom  trouble  myself  about  the  affairs  of  the  kitchen,"  an 
swered  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Wall,  then,"  returned  her  mother-in-law,  nothing 
daunted,  "  Wall,  then,  mebby  you'd  like  to  have  me  come 
in  and  set  with  you  a  while." 

It  would  be  impossible  for  us  to  depict  Mrs.  Living 
stone's  look  of  surprise  and  anger  at  this  proposition. 
Her  face  alternately  flushed  and  then  grew  pale,  until  at 
last  she  found  voice  to  say,  "  I  greatly  prefer  being  alone, 
madam.  It  annoys  me  excessively  to  have  any  one  round." 

"  Considerable  kind  o'  touchy,"  thought  Mrs.  Nichols, 
*'  but  then  the  poor  critter  is  sick,  and  I  shan't  lay  it  up 
agin  her." 

Taking  out  her  snuff-box,  she  offered  it  to  her  daughter, 
telling  her  that "  like  enough  'twould  cure  her  headache." 
Mrs.  Livingstone's  first  impulse  was  to  strike  it  from 


til  'LENA  RIVERS. 

her  mother's  hand,  but  knowing  how  unlady-like  that 
would  be,  she  restrained  herself,  and  turning  away  her 
head,  replied,  uUgh !  no  !  The  very  sight  of  it  makes 
me  sick." 

"  How  you  do  talk !  Wall,  I've  seen  folks  that  it  sarved 
jest  so ;  but  you'll  git  over  it.  Now  there  was  Nancy 
Scovandyke — did  John  ever  say  anything  about  her? 
"Wall,  she  couldn't  bear  snuff  till  after  her  disappmtment 
— John  told  you,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  No,  madam,  my  husband  has  never  told  me  anything 
concerning  his  eastern  friends,  neither  do  I  wish  to  hear 
anything  of  them,"  returned  Mrs.  Livingstone,  her  pa 
tience  on  the  point  of  giving  out. 

"  Never  told  you  nothin'  about  Nancy  Scovandyke  !  If 
that  don't  beat  all !  Why  he  was " 

She  was  prevented  from  finishing  the  sentence,  which 
would  undoubtedly  have  raised  a  domestic  breeze,  when 
Anna  came  to  tell  her  that  the  trunks  were  carried  to  her 
room. 

"I'll  come  right  up  then,"  said  she,  adding,  more  to  her- 
self  than  any  one  else,  "  If  I  aint  mistaken,  I've  got  a  lit 
tle  paper  of  sarfon  somewhere,  which  I  mean  to  steep  for 
Tilda.  Her  skin  looks  desput  jandissy  ! " 

When  Mr.  Livingstone  again  entered  his  wife's  room, 
he  found  her  in  a  collapsed  state  of  anger  and  morti 
fication. 

"  John  Nichols,"  said  she,  with  a  strong  emphasis  on 
the  first  word,  which  sounded  very  much  like  Jam,  "  do 
you  mean  to  kill  me  by  bringing  that  vulgar,  ignorant 
thing  here,  walking  into  my  room  without  knocking — - 
calling  me '  Tilda,  and  prating  about  Nancy  somebody — " 

John  started.  His  wife  know  nothing  of  his  affaire  du 
coeur  with  Miss  Nancy,  and  for  his  own  peace  of  mind 
'twas  desirable  that  she  should  not.  Mentally  resolving 


THE  ARRIVAL.  05 

to  give  her  a  few  hints,  he  endeavored  to  conciliate  his 
wife,  by  saying  that  he  knew  "  his  mother  was  trouble 
some,  but  she  must  try  not  to  notice  her  oddities." 

"  I  wonder  how  I  can  help  it,  when  she  forces  herself 
upon  me  continually,"  returned  his  wife.  "  I  must  eithei 
keep  the  doors  locked,  or  live  in  constant  terror." 

"  It's  bad,  I  know,"  said  he,  smoothing  her  glossy  hair, 
"  but  then,  she's  old,  you  know.  Have  you  seen  'Lena  ?" 

"  No,  neither  do  I  wish  to,  if  she's  at  all  like  her  grand 
mother,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  She's  handsome,"  suggested  Mr.  Livingstone. 

"  Pshaw  !  handsome  !  "  repeated  his  wife,  scornfully, 
while  he  replied,  "  Yes,  handsomer  than  either  of  our 
daughters,  and  with  the  same  advantages,  I've  no  doubt 
she'd  surpass  them  both." 

"Those  advantages,  then,  she  shall  never  have,"  re 
turned  Mrs.  Livingstone,  already  jealous  of  a  child  she 
had  only  seen  at  a  distance. 

Mr.  Livingstone  made  no  reply,  but  felt  that  he'd  made 
a  mistake  in  praising  'Lena,  in  whom  he  began  to  feel  a 
degree  of  interest  for  which  he  could  not  account.  He 
did  not  know  that  way  down  in  the  depths  of  his  heart, 
calloused  over  as  it  was  by  worldly  selfishness,  there 
was  yet  a  tender  spot,  a  lingering  memory  of  his  only 
sister,  whom  'Lena  so  strongly  resembled.  If  left  to 
himself,  he  would  undoubtedly  have  taken  pride  in  seeing 
his  niece  improve,  and  as  it  was,  he  determined  that  she 
should  at  home  receive  the  same  instruction  that  his 
daughters  did.  Perhaps  he  might  not  send  her  away  to 
Bchool.  He  didn't  know  how  that  would  be — his  wife 
held  the  purse,  and  taking  refuge  behind  that  excuse,  he 
for  the  present  dismissed  the  subject.  (So  much  for  mar 
rying  a  rich  wife  and  nothing  else.  This  we  throw  in 
gratis ! ) 

5 


06  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Meantime  grandma  had  returned  to  her  room,  at  the 
door  of  which  she  found  John  Jr.  and  Carrie,  both  curi 
ous  to  know  what  was  in  those  boxes,  one  of  which  had 
burst  open  and  been  tied  up  with  a  rope. 

"  Come,  children,"  said  she,  "  don't  stay  out  there- 
come  in." 

"  We  prefer  remaining  here,"  said  Carrie,  in  a  tone  and 
manner  so  nearly  resembling  her  mother,  that  Mrs.  Nich 
ols  could  not  refrain  from  saying,  "  chip  of  the  old  block !" 

"That's  so,  by  cracky.  You've  hit  her  this  time, 
granny,"  exclaimed  John  Jr.,  snapping  his  fingers  under 
Carrie's  nose,  which  being  rather  long,  was  frequently  a 
subject  of  his  ridicule. 

"Let  me  be,  John  Livingstone,"  said  Carrie,  while 
'Lena  resolved  never  again  to  use  the  word  "  granny," 
which  she  knew  her  cousin  had  taken  up  on  purpose  to 
tease  her. 

"  Come,  'Lena,  catch  hold  and  help  me  untie  this  rope. 
I  b'lieve  the  crockery's  in  here,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols  tc 
'Lena,  who  soon  opened  the  chest,  disclosing  to  view  as 
motley  a  variety  of  articles  as  is  often  seen. 

Among  the  rest  was  the  "  blue  set,"  a  part  of  her 
"  setting  out,"  as  his  grandmother  told  John  Jr.,  at  the 
same  time  dwelling  at  length  upon  their  great  value.  Mis 
taking  Carrie's  look  of  contempt  for  envy,  Mrs.  Nichols 
chucked  her  under  the  chin,  telling  her  "May be  there 
was  something  for  her,  if  she  was  a  good  girl." 

"  Now,  Cad,  turn  your  nose  up  clear  to  the  top  of 
your  head,"  said  John  Jr.,  vastly  enjoying  his  sister's 
vexation. 

"  Where  does  your  marm  keep  her  china  ?  I  want  to 
put  this  with  it,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols  to  Anna,  who,  un 
certain  wnat  reply  to  make,  looked  at  Carrie  to  answer 
for  her. 


THE  ARRIVAL.  67 

"  I  reckon  mother  don't  want  that  old  stuff  stuck  into 
her  china-closet,"  said  Carrie,  elevating  her  nose  to  a 
height  wholly  satisfactory  to  John  Jr.,  who  unbuttoned 
one  of  his  waistband  buttons  to  give  himself  room  to 
laugh. 

"  Mortal  sakes  alive !  I  wonder  if  she  don't,"  returned 
Mrs.  Nichols,  beginning  to  get  an  inkling  of  Carrie's  char 
acter,  and  the  estimation  in  which  her  valuables  were 
held. 

"  Here's  a  nice  little  cupboard  over  the  fire-place ;  I'd 
put  them  here,"  said  'Lena. 

"  Yes,"  chimed  in  John  Jr.,  imitating  both  his  grand 
mother  and  cousin;  "yes,  granny,  put  'em  there;  the 
niggers  are  awful  critters  to  steal,  and  like  enough  you'd 
lose  'em  if  they  sot  in  with  marm's !  " 

This  argument  prevailed.  The  dishes  were  put  away 
in  the  cupboard,  'Lena  thinking  that  with  all  his  badness 
John  Jr.,  was  of  some  use  after  all.  At  last,  tired  of 
looking  on,  Anna  suggested  to  'Lena,  who  did  not  seem  to 
be  helping  matters  forward  much,  that  she  should  go  and 
be  dressed  up  as  had  been  first  proposed.  Readily  divi 
ning  her  sister's  intention,  Carrie  ran  with  it  to  her  moth 
er,  who  sent  back  word  that  "  'Lena  must  mind  her  own 
affairs,  and  let  Anna's  dresses  alone  !  " 

This  undeserved  thrust  made  'Lena  cry,  while  Anna  de 
clared  "  her  mother  never  said  any  such  thing,"  which 
Carrie  understood  as  an  insinuation  that  she  had  told  a 
falsehood.  Accordingly  a  quarrel  of  words  ensued  be 
tween  the  two  sisters,  which  was  finally  quelled  by  John 
Jr.,  who  called  to  Carrie  "to  come  down,  as  she'd  got  a 
letter  from  Duncard  JZettmont." 

Durward  !  How  that  name  made  'Lena's  heart  leap  ! 
Was  it  her  Durward — the  boy  in  the  cars  ?  She  almost 
hoped  not,  for  somehow  the  idea  of  his  writing  to  Carrie 


38  'LENA  RIVERS. 

was  not  a  pleasant  one.  At  last  summoning  courage,  sho 
asked  Anna  who  he  was,  and  was  told  that  he  lived  in 
Louisville  with  his  step-father,  Mr.  Graham,  and  that 
Carrie  about  two  months  before  had  met  him  in  Frank 
fort  at  Colonel  Douglass's,  where  she  was  in  the  habit  of 
visiting.  "  Colonel  Douglass,"  continued  Anna,  has  got 
a  right  nice  little  girl,  whose  name  is  Nellie.  Then  there's 
Mabel  Ross,  a  sort  of  cousin,  who  lives  with  them  part 
of  the  time.  She's  an  orphan  and  a  great  heiress.  You 
mustn't  tell  any  body  for  the  world,  but  I  overheard  ma  say 
*Jiat  she  wanted  John  to  marry  Mabel,  she's  so  rich — but 
pshaw !  he  won't,  for  she's  awful  babyish  and  ugly  look 
ing.  Captain  Atherton  is  related  to  Nellie,  and  during 
the  holidays  she  and  Mabel  are  coming  up  to  spend  a 
week,  and  I'll  bet  Durward  is  coming  too.  Cad  teased 
him,  and  he  said  may  be  he  would  if  he  didn't  go  to 
college  this  fall.  I'll  run  down  and  see." 

Soon  returning,  she  brought  the  news  that  it  was  as  she 
had  conjectured.  Durward,  who  was  now  traveling,  was 
not  going  to  college  until  the  next  fall,  and  at  Christmas 
he'was  coming  to  the  country  with  his  cousin. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,"  said  Anna.  "  We'll  have  a  time ; 
for  rna'll  invite  them  here,  of  course.  Cad  thinks  a  heap 
of  Durward,  and  I  want  so  bad  to  see  him.  Don't  you  ?  » 

'Lena  made  no  direct  reply,  for  much  as  she  would 
like  to  see  her  compagnon  du  voyage,  she  felt  an  unwil 
lingness  to  meet  him  in  the  presence  of  Carrie,  who  she 
knew  would  spare  no  pains  to  mortify  her.  Soon  forget 
ting  Durward,  Anna  again  alluded  to  her  plan  of  dressing 
'Lena,  wishing  "Cad  would  mind  her  own  business." 
Then,  as  a  new  idea  entered  her  head,  she  brightened  up, 
exclaiming,  "  I  know  what  I  can  do.  I'll  have  Corinda 
curl  your  hair  real  pretty.  You've  got  beautiful  hair.  A 
heap  nicer  than  my  yellow  flax." 


THE  ARRIVAL.  69 

'Lena  offered  no  remonstrance,  and  Corinda,  who  came 
at  the  call  of  her  young  mistress,  immediately  commenced 
brushing  and  curling  the  bright,  wavy  hair  which  Anna 
had  rightly  called  beautiful.  While  this  was  going  on, 
Grandma  Nichols,  who  had  always  adhered  to  the  good 
old  puritanical  custom  of  dining  exactly  at  twelve  o'clock, 
began  to  wonder  why  dinner  was  not  forthcoming.  She 
Aad  breakfasted  in  Versailles,  but  like  many  travelers, 
could  not  eat  much  at  a  hotel,  and  now  her  stomach  clam 
ored  loudly  for  food.  Three  times  had  she  walked  back 
and  forth  before  what  she  supposed  was  the  kitchen,  and 
from  which  a  savory  smell  of  something  was  issuing,  and 
at  last  determining  to  stop  and  reconnoiter,  she  started 
for  the  door. 

The  northern  reader  at  all  acquainted  with  southern 
life,  knows  well  that  a  kitchen  there  and  a  kitchen  here 
are  two  widely  different  things — ours,  particularly  in  the 
country,  being  frequently  used  as  a  dining-room,  while 
a  southern  lady  would  almost  as  soon  think  of  eating  in 
the  barn  as  in  her  cook-room.  Like  most  other  planters, 
Mr.  Livingstone's  kitchen  was  separate  and  at  some  lit 
tle  distance  from  the  main  building,  causing  grandma  to 
wonder  "how  the  poor  critters  managed  to  carry  victuals 
back  and  to  when  it  was  cold  and  slippery." 

When  Aunt  Milly,  who  was  up  to  her  elbows  in  dough, 
saw  her  visitor  approaching,  she  exclaimed,  "Lor'-a- 
mighty,  if  thar  ain't  ole  miss  coming  straight  into  this 
lookin'  hole!  Jeff,  you  quit  that  ar'  pokin'  in  dem  ashes, 
and  knock  Lion  out  dat  kittle ;  does  you  liar  ?  And  you, 
Polly,"  speaking  to  a  superannuated  negress  who  was  sit 
ting  near  the  table,  "  you  just  shdve  that  ar'  piece  of 
dough,  I  done  save  to  bake  for  you  and  me,  under  your 
char,  whar  she  won't  see  it." 

Fully  complied,  aud  by  this  time  Mrs.  Nichols  was  at 


70  'LENA  RIVERS. 

the  door,  surveying  the  premises,  and  thinking  how  dif 
ferently  she'd  make  things  look  after  a  little. 

"Does  missus  want  anything?"  asked  Aunt  Hilly, and 
grandma  replied,  "  Yes,  I  want  to  know  if  't  aint  nigh 
about  noon? 

This  is  a  term  never  used  among  the  blacks,  and  rolling 
up  her  white  eyes,  Aunt  Milly  answered,  "  You  done  got 
me  now,  sartin,  for  this  chile  know  nothin'  what  you  mean 
more'n  the  deadest  critter  livin'." 

As  well  as  she  could,  Mrs.  Nichols  explained  her  mean 
ing,  and  Aunt  Milly  replied,  "  Oh,  yes,  yes,  I  know  now. 
4  Is  it  most  dinner  time  f '  Yes — dinner'll  be  done  ready 
in  an  hour.  We  never  has  it  till  two  no  day,  and  when 
we  has  company  not  till  three." 

Confident  that  she  should  starve,  Mrs.  Nichols  advanced 
a  step  or  two  into  the  kitchen,  whereupon  Aunt  Milly 
commenced  making  excuses,  saying,  "  she  was  gwine  to 
clar  up  one  of  these  days,  and  then  if  Thomas  Jefferson 
and  Marquis  De  Lafayette  didn't  quit  thar  litterin'  they'd 
cotch  it." 

Attracted  by  the  clean  appearance  of  Aunt  Polly,  who, 
not  having  to  work,  prided  herself  upon  always  being 
neatly  dressed,*Mrs.  Nichols  walked  up  to  her,  and,  to  use 
a  vulgar  expression,  the  two  old  ladies  were  soon  "  hand- 
in-glove,"  Mrs.  Nichols  informing  her  of  her  loss,  and  how 
sorry  Nancy  Scovandyke  would  feel  when  she  heard  of  it, 
and  ending  by  giving  her  the  full  particulars  of  her  hus 
band's  sickness  and  death.  In  return  Aunt  Polly  said  that 
"  she  was  born  and  bred  along  with  ole  Marster  Richards, 
Miss  Matilda's  father,  and  that  she,  too,  had  buried  a 
husband." 

With  a  deep  sigh,  Mrs.  Nichols  was  about  to  commiser 
ate  her,  when  Aunt  Polly  cut  her  short  by  saying,  "»T  want 
of  no  kind  o'  count,  as  she  never  relished  him  much." 


THE    ARRIVAL.  7! 

"Some  drunken  critter,  I  warrant,"  thought  Mrs.  Nick 
»la,  at  the  same  time  asking  what  his  name  was. 

"  Jeems,"  said  Aunt  Polly. 

This  was  not  definite  enough  for  Mrs.  Nichols,  who 
asked  for  the  surname,  "  Jeems  what  ?  " 

"Jeems  Atherton,  I  reckon,  bein'  he  'longed  to  ole 
Marster  Atherton,"  said  Polly. 

For  a  time  Mrs.  Nichols  had  forgotten  her  hunger,  but 
the  habit  of  sixty  years  was  not  so  easily  broken,  and  she 
now  hinted  so  strongly  of  the  emptiness  of  her  stomach 
that  Aunt  Polly,  emboldened  by  her  familiarity,  said  "I 
never  wait  for  the  rest,  but  have  my  cup  of  tea  or  coffee 
just  when  I  feel  like  it,  and  if  missus  wouldn't  mind  takin» 
a  bite  with  a  nigger,  she's  welcome." 

"Say  nothin'  about  it.  We  shall  all  be  white  in 
heaven." 

"Dat  am  de  trufe,"  muttered  Milly,  mentally  assign- 
mg  Mrs.  Nichols  a  more  exalted  occupation  than  that  of 
turning  hoe-cakes ! 

Two  cups  and  saucers  were  forthwith  produced,  Milly 
acting  as  waiter  for  fear  Aunt  Polly  would  leave  her  seat 
and  so  disclose  to  view  the  loaf  of  bread  which  had  been 
hidden  under  the  chair !  Some  coffee  was  poured  from 
the  pot,  which  still  stood  on  the  stove,  and  then  the  little 
negroes,  amused  with  the  novelty  of  the  thing,  ran  shout- 
ing  and  yelling  that,  «  ole  miss  was  eatin'  in  the  kitchen 
'long  with  Lion,  Aunt  Polly,  and  the  other  dogs !" 

The  coffee  being  drank,  Mrs.  Nichols  returned  to  the 
house,  thinking  "what  sights  of  comfort  she  should  take 
with  Mrs.  Atherton"  whom  she  pronounced  to  be  "a 
likely,  clever  woman  as  ever  was." 

Scarcely  had  she  reached  her  room  when  the  dinner- 
bell  rang,  every  note  falling  like  an  ice-bolt  on  the  heart 
of 'Lena,  who,  though  hungry  like  her  grandmother,  stiU 


72  'LENA    RIVERS. 

greatly  dreaded  the  dinner,  fearing  her  inability  to  acquit 
herself  creditably.  Corinda  had  finished  her  hair,  and 
Anna,  looking  over  her  wardrobe  and  coming  upon  the 
black  dress  which  her  father  had  purchased  for  her,  had 
insisted  upon  'Lena's  wearing  it.  It  was  of  rather  more 
modern  make  than  any  of  her  other  dresses,  and  when  her 
toilet  was  completed,  she  looked  uncommonly  well.  Still  she 
trembled  violently  as  Anna  led  her  to  the  dining-room. 

Neither  Mrs.  Nichols  nor  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  yet  made 
their  appearance,  but  the  latter  soon  came  languidly  in, 
wrapped  in  a  rose-colored  shawl,  which  John  Jr.  said 
"  she  wore  to  give  a  delicate  tint  to  her  yellow  complex 
ion."  She  was  in  the  worst  of  humors,  having  just  been 
opening  her  husband's  trunk,  where  she  found  the  numer 
ous  articles  which  had  been  stowed  away  by  Nancy  Sco- 
vandyke.  Very  angrily  she  had  ordered  them  removed 
from  her  sight,  and  at  this  very  moment  the  little  negroes 
in  the  yard  were  playing  with  the  cracked  bellows,  calling 
them  a  "  blubber,"  and  filling  them  with  water  to  see  it 

run  out  1 

Except  through  the  window,  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  not 
yet  seen  'Lena,  and  now  dropping  into  her  chair,  she  never 
raised  her  eyes  until  Anna  said,  "  Mother,  mother,  this  is 
'Lena.  Look  at  her." 

Thus  importuned,  Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  up,  and  the 
frown  with  which  she  was  prepared  to  greet  her  niece 
softened  somewhat,  for  'Lena  was  not  a  child  to  be  looked 
upon  and  despised.  Plain  and  humble  as  was  her  dress, 
there  was  something  in  her  fine,  open  face,  which  at  once 
interested  and  commanded  respect.  John  Jr.  had  felt  it ; 
his  father  had  felt  it ;  and  his  mother  felt  it  too,  but  it 
awoko  in  her  a  feeling  of  bitterness  as  she  thought  how 
the  fair  young  girl  before  her  might  in  time  rival  her 
daughters.  At  a  glance,  she  saw  that  'Lena  was  bcauti. 


THE    ARRIVAL.  73 

ful,  and  that  it  was  quite  as  much  a  beauty  of  intellect  as 
of  feature  and  form. 

"  Yes,"  thought  she,  "  husband  was  right  when  he  said 
that,  with  the  same  advantages,  she'd  soon  outstrip  her 
cousins — but  it  shall  never  be — never,"  and  the  white 
teeth  shut  firmly  together,  as  the  cold,  proud  woman 
bowed  a  welcome. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Nichols  appeared.  Stimulated  by 
the  example  of  'Lena,  she,  too,  had  changed  her  dress,  and 
now  in  black  bombasin,  white  muslin  cap,  and  shining  silk 
apron,  she  presented  so  respectable  an  appearance  that 
her  son's  face  instantly  brightened. 

"  Come,   mother,  we  are  waiting  for  you,"  said  he,  as 

she  stopped  on  her  way  to  ask  Vine,  the  fly  girl,  "  how 

she  did,  and  if  it  wasn't  hard  work  to  swing  them  feathers." 

Not  being  very  bright,  Vine  replied  with  a  grin,  "Dun 

know,  miss." 

Taking  her  seat  next  to  her  son,  Mrs.  Nichols  said,  when 
offered  a  plate  of  soup,  "  I  don't  often  eat  broth  ;  besides 
that,  I  ain't  much  hungry,  as  I've  just  been  takin'  a  bite 
with  MissAtherton  !  " 

"  With  whom  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Livingstone,  John  Jr.,  Car 
rie,  and  Anna,  in  the  same  breath. 

"  With  Miss  Polly  Atherton,  that  nice  old  colored  lady 
in  the  kitchen,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols. 

The  scowl  on  Mrs.  Livingstone's  face  darkened  visibly, 
while  her  husband,  thinking  it  time  to  speak,  said,  "  It  is 
my  wish,  mother,  that  you  keep  away  from  the  kitchen. 
It  does  the  negroes  no  good  to  be  meddled  with,  and  be 
sides  that,  when  you  are  hungry  the  servants  will  take  you 
something. " 

"  Accustomed  to  eat  in  the  kitchen,  probably,"  muttered 
Carrie,  with  all  the  air  of  a  young  lady  of  twenty. 

D 


74  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"Hold  on  to  your  nose,  Cad,"  whispered  John  Jr., 
thereby  attracting  his  sister's  attention  to  himself. 

By  this  time  the  soup  was  removed,  and  a  fine  largo 
turkey  appeared. 

"What  a  noble  great  feller.  Gobbler,  ain't  it  ?"  asked 
Mrs.  Nichols,  touching  the  turkey  with  the  knife. 

John  Jr.  roared,  and  was  ordered  from  the  table  by 
his  father,  while  Lena,  who  stepped  on  her  grandmother's 
toes  to  keep  her  from  talking,  was  told  by  that  lady  "  to 
keep  her  feet  still."  Along  with  the  desert  came  ice 
cream,  which  Mrs.  Nichols  had  never  before  tasted,  and 
now  fancying  that  she  was  dreadfully  burned,  she  quickly 
deposited  her  first  mouthful  upon  her  plate. 

"  What's  the  matter,  grandma  ?  Can't  you  eat  it  ?  " 
asked  Anna. 

"  Yes,  I  kin  eat  it,  but  I  don't  hanker  arter  it,"  an 
swered  her  grandmother,  pushing  the  plate  aside. 

Dinner  being  over,  Mrs.  Nichols  returned  to  her  room, 
but  soon  growing  weary,  she  started  out  to  view  the 
premises.  Coming  suddenly  upon  a  group  of  young  ne 
groes,  she  discovered  her  bellows,  the  water  dripping 
from  the  nose,  while  a  little  farther  on  she  espied  'Lena's 
bonnet,  which  the  negroes  had  at  last  succeeded  in  catch- 
ing,  and  which,  wet  as  it  was,  now  adorned  the  head  of 
Thomas  Jefferson !  In  a  trice  the  old  lady's  principles 
were  forgotten,  and  she  cuffed  the  negroes  with  a  right 
good  will,  hitting  Jeff,  the  hardest,  and,  as  a,  matter  of 
course,  making  him  yell  the  loudest.  Out  came  Aunt 
Milly,  scolding  and  muttering  about  "  white  folks  tendin' 
to  thar  own  business,"  and  reversing  her  decision  with 
regard  to  Mrs.  Nichols'  position  in  the  next  world.  Cuff, 
the  watch-dog,  whose  kennel  was  close  by,  set  up  a  tre 
mendous  howling,  while  John  Jr.,  always  on  hand,  danced 
a  jig  to  the  sound  of  the  direful  music. 


MALCOLM  EVERETT.  75 

"  For  heaven's  sake,  husband,  go  out  and  see  what's 
the  matter,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  slightly  alarmed  at 
the  unusual  noise. 

John  complied,  and  reached  the  spot  just  in  time  to 
catch  a  glimpse  of  John  Jr.'s  heels  as  he  gave  the  finish 
ing  touch  to  his  exploit,  while  Mrs.  Nichols,  highly  in 
censed,  marched  from  the  field  of  battle  with  the  bonnet 
and  bellows,  thinking  "  if  them  niggers  was  only  her'n 
they'd  catch  it !  » 


CHAPTER  VLT. 

MALCOLM     EVERETT. 

IT  would  be  tiresome  both  to  ourselves  and  our  read 
ers,  were  we  to  enumerate  the  many  mortifications  which 
both  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Livingstone  were  compelled  to  en 
dure  from  their  mother,  who  gradually  came  to  under 
stand  her  true  position  in  the  family.  One  by  one  her 
ideas  of  teaching  them  economy  were  given  up,  as  was 
also  all  hopes  of  ever  being  at  all  familiar  with  her  daugh 
ter,  whom,  at  her  son's  request,  she  had  ceased  to  call 
"  'Tilda." 

"  Mebby  you  want  me  to  say  Miss  Livingstone,"  said 
she,  "  but  I  shan't.  I'll  call  her  Miss  Nichols,  or  Matilda, 
just  which  she  chooses." 

Of  course  Mrs.  Livingstone  chose  the  latter,  wincing, 
though,  every  time  she  heard  it.  Dreading  a  scene 
which  lie  knew  was  sure  to  follow  a  disclosure  of  his  en 
gagement  with  Miss  Nancy,  Mr.  Livingstone  had  request- 
ud  his  mother  to  keep  it  from  his  wife,  and  she,  appro- 


76  'LENA  RIVERS. 

elating  his  motive,  promised  secrecy,  lamenting  the  while 
the  ill-fortune  which  had  prevented  Nancy  from  being 
her  daughter-in-law,  and  dwelling  frequently  upon  the 
comfort  she  should  take  were  Nancy  there  in  Matilda's 
place.  On  the  whole,  however,  she  was  tolerably  con 
tented  ;  the  novelty  of  Kentucky  life  pleased  her,  and  at 
last,  like  most  northern  people,  she  fell  in  with  the  habits 
of  those  around  her.  Still  her  Massachusetts  friends 
were  not  forgotten,  and  many  a  letter,  wonderful  for  its 
composition  and  orthography,  found  its  way  to  Nancy 
Scovandyke,  who  wrote  in  return  that  "some  time  or 
other  she  should  surely  visit  Kentucky,"  asking  further 
if  the  "  big  bugs"  didn't  prefer  eastern  teachers  for  their 
children,  and  hinting  at  her  desire  to  engage  in  that  ca 
pacity  when  she  came  south ! 

"  Now,  that's  the  very  thing,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Nichols, 
folding  the  letter,  (directed  wrong  side  up,)  and  resuming 
her  knitting.  "  Nancy's  larnin'  is  plenty  good  enough  to 
teach  Car'line  and  Auny,  and  I  mean  to  speak  to  John 
about  it  right  away." 

"  I  wouldn't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  'Lena,  seeing  at 
a  glance  how  such  a  proposal  would  be  received. 

"  Why  not  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Nichols,  and  'Lena  replied, 
"  I  don't  think  Nancy  would  suit  Aunt  Livingstone  at  all, 
and  besides  that,  they've  engaged  a  teacher,  a  Mr.  Ever 
ett,  and  expect  him  next  week." 

"  You  don't  say  so  ?  "  returned  Mrs  Nichols.  "  I  never 
hearn  a  word  on't.  Where  'bouts  is  he  from,  and  how 
much  do  they  give  him  a  week  ?  " 

The  latter  'Lena  knew  nothing  about,  but  she  replied 
that  "  she  believed  he  was  from  Rockford,  a  village  near 
Rochester,  New  York." 

"Why,  Nancy  Scovandyke's  sister  lives  there.  J 
wouldn't  wonder  if  he  knew  her." 


MALCOLM  EVERETT.  77 

"  Very  likely,"  returned  'Lena,  catching  her  bonnet 
and  hurrying  off  to  ride  with  Captain  Atlierton  and 
Anna. 

As  we  have  once  before  observed,  Anna  was  a  great 
favorite  with  the  captain,  who  had  petted  her  until  John 
Jr.  teased  her  unmercifully,  calling  him  her  gray-haired 
lover,  and  the  like.  This  made  Anna  exceedingly  sensi 
tive,  and  now  when  the  captain  called  for  her  to  ride, 
as  he  frequently  did,  she  refused  to  go  unless  the  invita 
tion  was  also  extended  to  'Lena,  who  in  this  Avay  got 
many  a  pleasant  ride  around  the  country.  She  was 
fast  learning  to  like  Kentucky,  and  would  have  been 
very  happy  had  her  aunt  and  Carrie  been  a  little  more 
gracious.  But  the  former  seldom  spoke  to  her,  and 
the  latter  only  to  ridicule  something  which  she  said 
or  did. 

Many  and  amusing  were  the  disputes  between  the  two 
girls  concerning  their  peculiarities  of  speech,  Carrie  bid 
ding  'Lena  "  quit  her  Yankee  hab;t  of  eternally  guessing? 
and  'Lena  retorting  that  "she  would  when  Carrie  stopped 
her  everlasting  reckoning."  To  avoid  the  remarks  of 
the  neighbors,  who  she  knew  were  watching  her  narrow 
ly,  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  purchased  'Lena  two  or  three 
dresses,  which,  though  greatly  inferior  to  those  worn  by 
Carrie  and  Anna,  were  still  fashionably  made,  and  so 
much  improved  'Lena's  looks,  that  her  manners  improved, 
also,  for  what  child  does  not  appear  to  better  advantage 
when  conscious  of  looking  well  ?  More  than  once  had 
her  uncle's  hand  rested  for  a  moment  on  her  brown  curls, 
while  his  thoughts  were  traversing  the  past,  and  in  fancy 
his  fingers  were  again  straying  among  the  silken  locks 
now  resting  in  the  grave.  It  would  seem  as  if  the  moth- 
er  from  her  coffin  was  pleading  for  her  child,  for  all  the 
better  nature  of  Mr.  Livingstone  was  aroused  ;  and  when 


78  'LENA  RIVERS. 

he  secured  the  services  of  Mr.  Everett,  who  was  highly 
recommended  both  as  a  scholar  and  gentleman,  he  deter 
mined  that  'Lena  should  share  the  same  advantages  with 
his  daughters.  To  this  Mrs.  Livingstone  made  no  seri 
ous  objection,  for  as  Mr.  Everett  would  teach  in  the 
house,  it  would  not  do  to  debar  'Lena  from  the  privilege 
of  attending  his  school ;  and  as  the  highest  position  to  which 
she  could  aspire  was  to  be  governess  in  some  private  fam 
ily,  she  felt  willing,  she  said,  that  she  should  have  a  chance 
of  acquiring  the  common  branches. 

And  now  Mr.  Everett  was  daily  expected.  Anna,  who 
had  no  fondness  for  books,  greatly  dreaded  his  arrival, 
thinking  within  herself  how  many  pranks  she'd  play  off 
upon  him,  provided  'Lena  would  lend  a  helping  hand, 
which  she  much  doubted.  John  Jr.,  too,  who  for  a  time, 
at  least,  was  to  be  placed  under  Mr.  Everett's  instruction, 
felt  in  no  wise  eager  for  his  arrival,  fearing,  as  he  told 
'Lena,  that  "between  the  c old  man'  and  the  tutor,  he 
would  be  kept  a  little  too  straight  for  a  gentleman  of  his 
habits ;"  and  it  was  with  no  particular  emotions  of  pleas 
ure  that  he  and  Anna  saw  the  stage  stop  before  the  gate 
one  pleasant  morning  toward  the  middle  of  November. 
Running  to  one  of  the  front  windows,  Carrie,  'Lena,  and 
Anna  watched  their  new  teacher,  each  after  her  own 
fashion  commenting  upon  his  appearance. 

"Ugh!"  exclaimed  Anna,  "what  a  green,  boyish 
looking  tiling !  I  reckon  nobody's  going  to  be  afraid 
of  him." 

"  I  say  he's  real  handsome,"  said  Carrie,  who  being 
thirteen  years  of  age,  had  already,  in  her  own  mind, 
practiced  many  a  little  coquetry  upon  the  stranger. 

"I  like  him,"  was  'Lena's  brief  remark. 

Mr.  Everett  was  a  pale,  intellectual  looking  man, 
scarcely  twenty  years  of  age,  and  appearing  still  younger, 


MALCOLM  EVERETT.  79 

so  that  Anna  was  not  wholly  wrong  when  she  called  him 
boyish.  Still  there  was  in  his  large  black  eye  a  firmness 
and  decision  which  bespoke  the  man  strong  within  him, 
and  which  put  to  flight  all  of  Anna's  preconceived  notions 
of  rebellion.  With  the  utmost  composure  he  returned 
Mrs.  Livingstone's  greeting,  and  the  proud  lady  half  bit 
her  lip  with  vexation  as  she  saw  how  little  he  seemed 
awed  by  her  presence. 

Malcolm  Everett  was  not  one  to  acknowledge  superi 
ority  where  there  was  none,  and  though  ever  polite  to 
ward  Mrs.  Livingstone,  there  was  something  in  his  man 
ner  which  forbade  her  treating  him  as  aught  save  an 
equal.  He  was  not  to  be  trampled  down,  and  for  once 
in  her  life  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  found  a  person  who 
would  neither  cringe  to  her  nor  flatter.  The  children  were 
not  presented  to  him  until  dinner  time,  when,  with  the 
air  of  a  young  desperado,  John  Jr.  marched  into  the 
dining-room,  eyeing  his  teacher  askance,  calculating  his 
strength,  and  returning  his  greeting  with  a  simple  nod. 
Mr.  Everett  scanned  him  from  head  to  foot,  and  then 
turned  to  Carrie  half  smiling  at  the  great  dignity  which 
she  assumed.  With  'Lena  and  Anna  he  seemed  bettei 
pleased,  holding  their  hands  and  smiling  down  upon  them 
through  rows  of  teeth  which  Anna  pronounced  the  whitest 
she  had  ever  seen. 

Mr.  Livingstone  was  not  at  home,  and  when  his  mother 
appeared,  Mrs.  Livingstone  did  not  think  proper  to  in 
troduce  her.  But  if  by  this  omission  she  thought  to  keep 
the  old  lady  silent,  she  was  mistaken,  for  the  moment 
Mrs.  Nichols  was  seated,  she  commenced  with,  "  Your 
name  is  Everett,  I  b'lieve  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am,"  said  he,  bowing  very  gracefully  toward 
her. 

"  Any  kin  to  the  governor  that  was  ?  " 


80  'LENA  FJVERS. 

"  No,  ma'am,  none  whatever,"  and  the  white  teeth 
became  slightly  visible  for  a  moment,  but  soon  disap 
peared. 

"  You  are  from  Rockford,  'Lena  tells  me  ?  " 

"  Yes,  ma'am.     Have  you  friends  there  ?  " 

"Yes — or  that  is,  Nancy  Scovandyke's  sister,  Betsy 
Scovandyke  that  used  to  be,  lives  there.  May  be  you 
know  her.  Her  name  is  Bacon — Betsy  Bacon.  She's  a 
widder  and  keeps  boarders." 

"Ah,"  said  he,  the  teeth  this  time  becoming  wholly 
visible,  "I've  heard  of  Mrs.  Bacon,  but  have  not  the 
honor  of  her  acquaintance.  You  are  from  the  east,  I 
perceive." 

"Law,  now!  how  did  you  know  that  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Nichols,  while  Mr.  Everett  answered,  "  I  guessed  at  it," 
with  a  peculiar  emphasis  on  the  word  guessed,  which  led 
'Lena  to  think  he  had  used  it  purposely  and  not  from 
habit. 

Mr.  Everett  possessed  in  a  remarkable  degree  the  fac 
ulty  of  making  those  around  him  both  respect  and  like 
him,  and  ere  six  weeks  had  passed,  he  had  won  the  love 
of  all  his  pupils.  Even  John  Jr.  was  greatly  improved, 
and  Carrie  seemed  suddenly  reawakened  into  a  thirst  for 
knowledge,  deeming  no  task  too  long,  and  no  amount  of 
study  too  hard,  if  it  won  the  commendation  of  her  teach 
er.  'Lena,  who  committed  to  memory  with  great  case, 
and  who  consequently  did  not  deserve  so  much  credit  for 
her  always  perfect  lessons,  seldom  received  a  word  of 
praise,  while  poor  Anna,  notoriously  lazy  when  books 
were  concerned,  cried  almost  every  day,  because,  as  she 
said,  "  Mr.  Everett  did'nt  like  her  as  he  did  the  rest,  else 
why  did  he  look  at  her  so  much,  watching  her  all  the 
while,  and  keeping  her  after  school  to  get  her  lessons 
over,  when  he  knew  how  she  hated  them." 


MACOLM  JKVEUETT.  81 

Once  Mrs.  Livingstone  ventured  to  remonstrate,  telling 
him  that  Anna  was  very  sensitive,  and  required  altogeth 
er  different  treatment  from  Came,  "She  thinks  you  dis 
like  her,"  said  she,  "  and  while  she  retains  this  impression, 
she  will  do  nothing  as  far  as  learning  is  concerned ;  so  if 
you  do  not  like  her,  try  and  make  her  think  you  do!" 

There  was  a  peculiar  look  in  Mr.  Everett's  dark  eyes 
as  he  answered,  "  You  may  think  it  strange,  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  but  of  all  my  pupils  I  love  Anna  the  best !  I 
know  I  find  more  fault  with  her,  and  am  perhaps  more 
severe  with  her  than  with  the  rest,  but  it's  because  I 
would  make  her  what  I  wish  her  to  be.  Pardon  me, 
madam,  but  Anna  does  not  possess  the  same  amount  of 
intellect  with  her  cousin  or  sister,  but  by  proper  culture 
she  will  make  a  fine,  intelligent  woman." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  hardly  relished  being  told  that  one 
child  was  inferior  to  the  other,  but  she  could  not  well  help 
herself— Mr.  Everett  would  say  what  he  pleased — and  thus 
the  conference  ended.  From  that  time  Mr.  Everett  was 
exceedingly  kind  to  Anna,  wiping  away  the  tears  which 
invariably  came  when  told  that  she  must  stay  with  him  in 
the  school-room  after  the  rest  were  gone ;  then,  instead  of 
seating  himself  in  rigid  silence  at  a  distance  until  her  task 
was  learned,  he  would  sit  by  her  side,  occasionally  smooth 
ing  her  long  curls  and  speaking  encouragingly  to  her  as 
she  pored  over  some  hard  rule  of  grammar,  or  puzzled  her 
brains  with  some  difficult  problem  in  Colburn.  Erelong 
the  result  of  all  this  became  manifest.  Anna  grew  fonder 
of  her  books,  more  'ready  to  learn,  and — more  willing  tc 
be  kept  after  school ! 

Ah,  little  did  Mrs.  Livingstone  think  what  she  was  doing 
when  she  bade  young  Malcolm  Everett  make  her  warm 
hearted,  impulsive  daughter  think  he  liked  her ! 

D* 


62  'LENA   RIVER9. 

CHAPTER  Yin. 

SCHEMING. 

"  MOTHER,  where's  'Lena's  dress  ?  Hasn't  she  got  any  ?  " 
asked  Anna,  one  morning,  about  two  weeks  before  Christ 
mas,  as  she  bent  over  a  promiscuous  pile  of  merinoes,  de 
laines,  and  plaid  silks,  her  own  and  Carrie's  dresses  for  the 
coming  holidays.  "  Say,  mother,  didn't  you  buy  'Lena  any  ?" 

Thus  interrogated,  Mrs.  Livingstone  replied,  "  I  won 
der  if  you  think  I'm  made  of  money !  'Lena  is  indebted 
to  me  now  for  more  than  she  can  ever  pay.  As  long  as  I 
give  her  a  home  and  am  at  so  much  expense  in  educating 
her,  she  of  course  can't  expect  me  to  dress  her  as  I  do  you. 
There's  Carrie's  brown  delaine  and  your  blue  one,  which 
I  intend  to  have  made  over  for  her,  and  she  ought  to  bo 
satisfied  with  that,  for  they  are  much  better  than  any 
thing  she  had  when  she  came  here." 

And  the  lady  glanced  toward  the  spot  where  'Lena  sat, 
•admiring  the  new  things,  in  which  she  had  no  share,  and 
longing  to  ask  the  question  which  Anna  had  asked  for 
her,  and  which  had  now  been  answered.  John  Jr.,  who 
was  present,  and  who  knew  that  Mr.  Everett  had  been 
engaged  to  teach  in  the  family  long  before  it  was  known 
that  'Lena  was  coming,  now  said  to  his  cousin,  who  arose  to 
leave,  "  Yes,  'Lena,  mother's  a  model  of  generosity,  and 
you'll  never  be  able  to  repay  her  for  her  kindness  in  allow* 
ing  you  to  wear  the  girls'  old  duds,  which  would  other 
wise  be  given  to  the  blacks,  and  in  permitting  you  to  re 
cite  to  Mr.  Everett,  who,  of  course,  'was  hired  on  your 
account." 

The  slamming  together  of  the  door  as  'Lena  left  the 
room  brought  the  young  gentleman's  remarks  to  a  close, 


SCHEMING.  83 

and  wishing  to  escape  the  lecture  which  he  saw  was  pre 
paring  for  him,  he,  too,  made  his  exit. 

Christmas  was  coming,  and  with  it  Durward  Bellmont, 
and  about  his  coming  Mrs.  Livingstone  felt  some  little 
anxiety.  Always  scheming,  and  always  looking  ahead, 
she  was  expecting  great  results  from  this  visit.  Durward 
was  not  only  immensely  wealthy,  but  was  also  descend 
ed  on  his  father's  side  from  one  of  England's  noble 
men.  Altogether  he  was,  she  thought,  a  "  decided  catch," 
and  though  he  was  now  only  sixteen,  while  Carrie  was 
but  thirteen,  lifelong  impressions  had  been  made  at  even 
an  earlier  period,  and  Mrs.  Livingstone  resolved  that  her 
pretty  daughter  should  at  least  have  all  the  advantages 
of  dress  with  which  to  set  off  her  charms.  Concerning 
Anna's  appearance  she  cared  less,  for  she  had  but  little 
hope  of  her,  unless,  indeed — but  't  wras  too  soon  to  think 
of  that — she  would  wait,  and  perhaps  in  good  time  't  would 
all  come  round  naturally  and  as  a  matter  of  course.  So 
she  encouraged  her  daughter's  intimacy  with  Captain  Ath- 
erton,  who,  until  Malcolm  Everett  appeared,  wras  in  Anna's 
estimation  the  best  man  living.  Now,  however,  she  made 
an  exception  in  favor  of  her  teacher,  "who,"  as  she  told 
the  captain,  "  neither  wore  false  teeth,  nor  kept  in  his 
pocket  a  pair  of  specks,  to  be  slily  used  when  he  fancied 
no  one  saw  him." 

Captain  Atherton  coughed,  colored,  laughed,  and  say 
ing  that  "  Mr.  Everett  was  a  nicish  kind  of  a  £oy,"  swore 
eternal  enmity  toward  him,  and  under  the  mask  of  friend 
ship — watched !  Eleven  years  before,  wrhen  Anna  was  a 
baby,  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  playfully  told  the  captain, 
who  was  one  day  deploring  his  want  of  a  wife,  that  if  he 
would  wait  he  should  have  her  daughter.  To  this  lie 
agreed,  and  the  circumstance,  trivial  as  it  was,  made  a 
more  than  ordinary  impression  upon  his  mind ;  and  though 


84  'LENA    RIVERS. 

be  as  yet  had  no  definite  idea  that  the  promise  would 
ever  be  fulfilled,  the  little  girl  was  to  him  an  object  of  un 
common  interest.  Mrs.  Livingstone  knew  this,  and  when 
ever  Anna's  future  prospects  were  the  subject  of  her 
meditations,  she  generally  fell  back  upon  that  fact  as  an 
item*  not  to  be  despised. 

Now,  however,  her  thoughts  were  turned  into  another 
and  widely  different  channel.  Christmas  week  was  to  be 
spent  by  Durward  Bellmont  partly  at  Captain  Atherton's 
and  partly  at  her  own  house,  and  as  Mrs.  Livingstone  was 
not  ignorant  of  the  effect  a  becoming  dress  has  upon  a 
pretty  face,  she  determined  that  Carrie  should,  at  least, 
have  that  advantage.  Anna,  too,  was  to  fare  like  her  sis 
ter,  while  no  thought  was  bestowed  upon  poor  'Lena's 
wardrobe,  until  her  husband,  who  accompanied  her  to 
Frankfort,  suggested  that  a  certain  pattern,  which  he 
fancied  would  be  becoming  to  'Lena,  should  be  purchased. 

With  an  angry  scowl,  Mrs  Livingstone  muttered  some 
thing  about  "  spending  so  much  money  for  other  folks' 
young  ones."  Then  remembering  the  old  delaines,  and 
knowing  by  the  tone  of  her  husband's  voice  that  he  was 
in  earnest,  she  quickly  rejoined,  "  Why,  'Lena's  got  two 
new  dresses  at  home." 

Never  doubting  his  wife's  word,  Mr.  Livingstone  was 
satisfied,  and  nothing  more  was  said  upon  the  subject. 
Business  of  importance  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  go 
for  a  few  weeks  to  New  Orleans,  and  he  was  now  on  his 
way  thither,  his  wife  having  accompanied  him  as  far  as 
Frankfort,  where  he  took  the  boat,  while  she  returned 
home.  When  'Lena  left  the  room  after  learning  that  she 
had  no  part  in  the  mass  of  Christmas  finery,  she  repaired 
to  the  arbor  bridge,  where  she  had  wept  so  bitterly  on 
the  first  day  of  her  arrival,  and  which  was  now  her  favor 
ite  resort.  For  a  time  she  sat  watching  the  leaping  war 


SCHEMING.  85 

ters,  swollen  by  the  winter  rains,  and  wondering  if  it  were 
not  possible  that  they  started  at  first  from  the  pebbly 
spring  which  gushed  so  cool  and  clear  from  the  mountain 
side  near  her  old  New  England  home.  This  reminded 
her  of  where  and  what  she  was  now — a  dependent  on 
the  bounty  of  those  who  wished  her  away,  and  who  al 
most  every  day  of  her  life  made  her  feel  it  so  keenly,  too. 
Not  one  among  them  loved  her  except  Anna,  and  would 
not  her  affection  change  as  they  grew  older  ?  Then  her 
thoughts  took  another  direction.  Durward  Bellmont  waa 
coming — but  did  she  wish  to  see  him  ?  Could  she  bear 
the  sneering  remarks  which  she  knew  Carrie  would  make 
concerning  herself?  And  how  would  he  be  affected  by 
them  ?  Would  he  ask  her  of  her  father  ?  and  if  so,  what 
had  she  to  say  ? 

Many  a  time  had  she  tried  to  penetrate  the  dark  mys 
tery  of  her  birth,  but  her  grandmother  was  wholly  non 
committal.  Once,  too,  when  her  uncle  seemed  kinder 
than  usual,  she  had  ventured  to  ask  him  of  her  father,  and 
with  a  frown  he  had  replied,  that  "  the  least  she  knew  of 
him  the  better! "  Still  'Lena  felt  sure  that  he  was  a  good 
man,  and  that  some  time  or  other  she  would  find  him. 

All  day  long  the  clouds  had  been  threatening  rain, 
which  began  to  full  soon  after  'Lena  entered  the  arbor, 
but  so  absorbed  was  she  in  her  own  thoughts,  that  she  did 
not  observe  it  until  her  clothes  were  perfectly  dampened  ; 
then  starting  up,  she  repaired  to  the  house.  For  several 
days  she  had  not  been  well,  and  this  exposure  brought  on 
a  severe  cold,  which  confined  her  to  her  room  for  nearly 
two  weeks.  Meantime  the  dress-making  process  went  on, 
Anna  keeping  'Lena  constantly  apprised  of  its  progress, 
and  occasionally  wearing  in  some  article  for  her  inspec 
tion.  This  reminded  'Lena  of  her  own  wardrobe,  and 
knowing  that  it  would  not  be  attended  to  while  she  was 


66  'LENA  RIVERS. 

sick,  she  made  such  haste  to  be  well,  that  on  Thursday  at 
tea-time  she  took  her  accustomed  seat  at  the  table.  Af 
ter  supper  she  lingered  awhile  in  the  parlor,  hoping  some 
thing  would  be  said,  but  she  waited  in  vain,  and  was  about 
leaving,  when  a  few  words  spoken  by  Carrie  in  an  adjoin 
ing  room  caught  her  ear  and  arrested  her  attention. 

They  were — "And  so  'Lena  came  down  to-night.  I 
dare  say  she  thinks  you'll  set  Miss  Simpson  at  work  upon 
my  old  delaine." 

"  Perhaps  so,"  returned  Mrs  Livingstone,  "  but  I  don't 
see  how  Miss  Simpson  can  do  it,  unless  you  put  off  having 
that  silk  apron  embroidered. 

"  I  shan't  do  any  such  thing,"  said  Carrie,  glad  of  an  ex 
cuse  to  keep  'Lena  out  of  the  way.  "  What  matter  is  it 
if  she  don't  come  down  when  the  company  are  here  ?  I'd 
rather  she  wouldn't,  for  she's  so  green  and  awkward,  and 
Durward  is  so  fastidious  in  such  matters,  that  I'd  rather 
he  wouldn't  know  she's  a  relative  of  ours !  I  know  he'd 
tell  his  mother,  and  they  say  she  is  very  particular  about 
his  associates."  ifvcrv  • 

"  Lena's  first  impulse  was  to  defy  her.  cousin  to  her 
face — to  tell  her  she  had  seen  Durward  Bellmont,  and 
that  he  didn't  laugh  at  her  either.  But  her  next  thought 
was  calmer  and  more  rational.  Possibly  under  Carrie's 
influence  he  might  make  fun  of  her,  and  resolving  on  no 
condition  whatever  to  make  herself  visible  while  he  was 
in  the  house,  she  returned  to  her  room,  and  throwing  her 
self  upon  the  bed,  wept  until  she  fell  asleep. 

"  When  is  Miss  Simpson  going  to  fix  'Lena  s  dress  ?  " 
asked  Anna,  as  day  after  day  passed,  and  nothing  was 
said  of  the  brown  delaine. 

For  an  instant  Miss  Simpson's  nimble  fingers  were  still, 
as  she  awaited  the  answer  to  a  question  which  had  oc 
curred  to  her  several  times.  She  was  a  kind-hearted,  in- 


SCHEMING.  87 

telligent  girl,  and  at  a  glance  had  seen  how  matters  stood. 
She,  too,  was  an  orphan,  and  her  sympathies  were  all  en 
listed  in  behalf  of  the  neglected  'Lena.  She  had  heard 
from  Anna  of  the  brown  delaine,  and  in  her  own  mind 
she  had  determined  that  it  should  be  fitted  with  the  ut 
most  taste  of  which  she  was  capable. 

Her  speculations,  however,  were  brought  to  a  close  by 
Mrs.  Livingstone's  saying,  in  reply  to  Anna,  that  'Lena 
seemed  so  wholly  uninterested,  and  cared  so  little  about 
seeing  the  company,  she  had  decided  not  to  have  the 
dress  fixed  until  after  Christmas  week." 

The  fiery  expression  of  two  large,  glittering  eyes, 
which  at  that  moment  peered  in  at  the  door,  convinced 
Miss  Simpson  that  her  employer  had  hardly  told  the  truth, 
and  she  secretly  determined  that  'Lena  should  have  the 
dress  whether  she  would  or  not.  Accordingly,  the  next 
time  she  and  Anna  were  alone,  she  asked  for  the  delaine, 
entrusting  her  secret  to  Anna,  who,  thinking  no  harm, 
promised  to  keep  it  from  her  mother.  But  to  get  'Lena 
fitted  was  a  more  difficult  matter.  Her  spirit  was  roused, 
and  for  a  time  she  resisted  their  combined  efforts.  At 
last,  however,  she  yielded,  and  by  working  late  at  night 
in  her  own  room,  Miss  Simpson  managed  to  finish  the 
dress,  in  which  'Lena  really  looked  better  than  did  either 
of  her  cousins  in  their  garments  of  far  richer  materials. 
Still  she  was  resolved  not  to  go  down,  and  Anna,  fearing 
what  her  mother  might  say,  dared  not  urge  her  very 
strongly,  hoping,  though,  that  "  something  would  turn 

up." 

******** 

Durward  l>ellmont,  Nellie  Douglass,  and  Mabel  Ross 
had  arrived  at  Captain  Atherton's.  Mrs.  Livingstone 
and  her  daughters  had  called  upon  them,  inviting  them 
to  spend  a  few  days  at  Maple  Grove,  where  they  were  to 


88  'LENA  RIVERS. 

cneet  some  other  young  people  "  selected  from  the  wealth 
iest  families  in  the  neighborhood,"  Mrs.  Livingstone  said; 
at  the  same  time  patting  the  sallow  cheek  of  Mabel,  whose 
reputed  hundred  thousand  she  intended  should  one  day 
increase  the  importance  of  her  own  family. 

The  invitation  was  accepted — the  day  had  arrived,  the 
guests  were  momentarily  expected,  and  Carrie,  before  the 
long  mirror,  was  admiring,  herself,  alternately  frowning 
upon  John  Jr.,  who  was  mimicking  her  "  airs,"  and  scold 
ing  Anna  for  fretting  because  'Lena  could  not  be  induced 
to  join  them.  Finding  that  her  niece  was  resolved  not  to 
appear,  Mrs.  Livingstone,  for  look's  sake,  had  changed  her 
tactics,  saying,  "  'Lena  could  come  down  if  she  chose — • 
she  was  sure  there  was  nothing  to  prevent." 

Knowing  this,  Anna  had  exhausted  all  her  powers  of 
eloquence  upon  her  cousin.  But  she  still  remained  inex 
orable,  greatly  to  the  astonishment  of  her  grandmother, 
who  for  several  days  had  been  suffering  from  a  rheumatic 
affection,  notwithstanding  which  she  "  meant  to  hobble 
down  if  possible,  for  "  said  she,  "I  want  to  see  this  Dur- 
ward  Bcllmont.  Matilda  says  he's  got  Noble,  blood  in 
him.  I  used  to  know  a  family  of  Nobles  in  Massachusetts, 
and  I  think  like  as  not  he's  some  kin  ! " 

Carrie,  to  whom  this  remark  was  made,  communicated 
it  to  her  mother,  who  forthwith  repaired  to  Mrs.  Nichols' 
room,  telling  her  "  that 't  was  a  child's  party,"  and  hint 
ing  pretty  strongly  that  she  was  neither  wanted  nor  ex 
pected  in  the  parlor,  and  would  confer  a  great  favor  by 
keeping  aloof. 

"  Wall,  wall,"  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  who  had  learned  tc 
dread  her  daughter's  displeasure,  "  I'd  as  lief  stay  up  here 
as  not,  but  I  do  want  'Lena  to  jine  'em.  She's  young, 
and  would  enjoy  it." 

Without  a  word  of  answer  Mrs.  Livingstone  walked 


SCHEMING.  88 

away,  leaving  'Lena  more  determined  than  ever  not  to 
go  down.  "When  the  evening  at  last  arrived,  Anna  in 
sisted  so  strongly  upon  her  wearing  the  delaine,  for  fear 
of  what  might  happen,  that  'Lena  consented,  curling  her 
hair  with  great  care,  and  feeling  a  momentary  thrill  of 
pride  as  she  saw  how  well  she  looked. 

"When  we  get  nicely  to  enjoying  ourselves,"  said 
Anna,  "  you  come  down  and  look  through  the  glass  door, 
for  I  do  want  you  to  see  Durward,  he's  so  handsome — but 
there's  the  carriage — I  must  go ;"  and  away  ran  Anna 
down  the  stairs,  while  'Lena  flew  to  one  of  the  front  win 
dows  to  see  the  company  as  they  rode  up. 

First  came  Captain  Atherton's  carriage,  and  in  it  the 
captain  and  his  maiden  sister,  together  with  a  pale,  sickly- 
looking  girl,  whom  'Lena  knew  to  be  Mabel  Ross.  Be 
hind  them  rode  Durward  Bellmont,  and  at  his  side,  on  a 
spirited  little  pony  was  another  girl,  thirteen  or  fourteen 
years  of  age,  but  in  her  long  riding-dress  looking  older, 
because  taller.  'Lena  readily  guessed  that  this  was  Nel 
lie  Douglass,  and  at  a  glance  she  recognized  the  Durward 
of  the  cars — grown  handsomer  and  taller  since  then,  she 
thought.  With  a  nimble  bound  he  leaped  from  his  saddle, 
kissing  his  hand  to  Carrie,  who  with  her  sunniest  smilo 
ran  past  him  to  welcome  Nellie.  A  pang,  not  of  jealousy, 
but  of  an  undefined  something,  shot  through  'Lena's  heart, 
and  dropping  the  heavy  curtain,  she  turned  away,  while 
the  tears  gathered  thickly  in  her  large,  brown  eyes. 

"  Where's  'Lena,"  asked  Captain  Atherton,  of  Anna, 
warming  his  red  lingers  before  the  blazing  grate,  and 
looking  round  upon  the  group  of  girls  gathered  near. 

Glancing  at  her  mother,  Anna  replied,  "  She  says  she 
don't  want  to  come  down." 

"  Bashful,"  returned  the  captain,  while  Nellie  Doug 
lass  asked,  "  who  'Lena  was,"  at  the  same  time  returning 


00  'LENA    RIVERS 

the  pinch  which  John  Jr.  had  slily  given  her  as  a  mo  de  of 
showing  his  preference,  for  Nellie  was  his  favorite. 

Fearful  of  Anna's  reply,  Mrs.  Livingstone  answered, 
carelessly,  "  She's  the  child  of  one  of  Mr.  Livingstone's 
poor  relations,  and  we've  taken  her  awhile  out  of  charity." 
At  any  other  time  John  Jr.  would  doubtless  have  ques 
tioned  his  mother's  word,  but  now  so  engrossed  was  he 
with  the  merry,  hoydenish  Nellie,  that  he  scarcely  heard 
her  remark,  or  noticed  the  absence  of  'Lena.  With  the 
exception  of  his  cousin,  Nellie  was  the  only  girl  whom 
John  Jr.  could  endure — "  the  rest,"  he  said,  "  were  so 
stuck  up  and  affected." 

For  Mabel  Ross,  he  seemed  to  have  a  particular  aver 
sion.  Not  because  she  was  so  very  disagreeable,  but  be 
cause  his  mother  continually  reminded  him  of  what  she 
hoped  would  one  day  be,  "and  this,"  he  said,  "was 
enough  to  make  a  '  feller '  hate  a  girl."  So,  without  con 
sidering  that  Mabel  was  not  to  blame,  he  ridiculed  her 
unmercifully,  calling  her  "a  bundle  of  medicine,"  and 
making  fun  of  her  thin,  sallow  face,  which  really  appeared 
to  great  disadvantage  when  contrasted  with  Nellie's  bright 
eyes  and  round,  rosy  cheeks. 

When  the  guests  were  all  assembled,  Carrie,  not  know 
ing  whether  DurwardBellmont  would  relish  plays,  seated 
herself  demurely  upon  the  sofa,  prepared  to  act  the  digni 
fied  young  lady,  or  any  other  character  she  might  think 
necessary. 

"  Get  up,  Cad,"  said  John  Jr.  "Nobody's  going  to  act 
like  they  were  at  a  funeral;  get  up,  and  let's  play 
something." 

As  the  rest  seemed  to  be  similarly  inclined,  Carrie 
arose,  and  erelong  the  joyous  shouts  reached  'Lena,  ma 
king  her  half  wish  that  she,  too,  was  there.  Remember 
ing  Anna's  suggestion  of  looking  through  the  glass  door, 


SCHEMING.  91 

she  stole  softly  down  tlte  stairs,  and  stationing  herself  be 
hind  the  door,  looked  in  on  the  scene.  Mr.  Everett,  usu 
ally  so  dignified,  had  joined  in  the  game,  claiming  "  for 
feits  "  from  Anna  more  frequently  than  was  considered  at 
all  necessary  by  the  captain,  who  for  a  time  looked  jeal 
ously  on,  and  then  declaring  himself  as  young  as  any  of 
them,  joined  them  with  a  right  good  will. 

"  Blind  man's  buff,"  was  next  proposed,  and  'Lena's  heart 
leaped  up,  for  that  was  her  favorite  game.  John  Jr.  was 
first  blinded,  but  he  caught  them  so  easily  that  all  de 
clared  he  could  see,  and  loud  were  the  calls  for  Durward 
to  take  his  place.  This  he  willingly  did,  and  whether  he 
could  see  or  not,  he  suffered  them  to  pass  directly  under 
his  hands,  thus  giving  entire  satisfaction.  On  account  of 
the  heat  of  the  rooms,  Anna,  on  passing  the  glass  door, 
threw  it  open,  and  the  next  time  Durward  came  round  he 
marched  directly  into  the  hall,  seizing  'Lena,  who  was 
trying  to  hide. 

Feeling  her  long  curls,  he  exclaimed,  "  Anna,  you  are 
caught." 

"No,  I  ain't  Anna;  let  me  go,"  said 'Lena,  struggling 
to  escape. 

This  brought  all  the  girls  to  the  spot,  while  Durward, 
snatching  the  muffler  from  his  eyes,  looked  down  with  as 
tonishment  upon  the  trembling  'Lena,  who  would  have 
escaped  had  she  not  been  so  securely  hemmed  in. 

"Ain't  you  ashamed,  Lena,  to  be  peeking  ?"  asked 
Carrie,  while  Durward  repeated — ^^ Lena  I  'Lena!  I've 
seen  her  before  in  the  cars  between  Springfield  and  Al 
bany  ;  but  how  came  she  here  ?  " 

"  She  lives  here — she's  our  cousin,"  said  Anna,  notwith 
standing  the  twitch  given  to  her  sleeve  by  Carrie,  who  did 
not  care  to  have  the  relationship  exposed. 


92  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  Your  cousin,"  said  Durward,  "  and  where's  the  old 
lady  who  was  with  her  ?  " 

"The  one  she  called  granny  ?"  asked  John  Jr.,  on  pur 
pose  to  rouse  up  his  fiery  little  cousin. 

;t  No,  I  don't  call  her  granny r,  neither — I've  quit  it," 
said  'Lena,  angrily,  adding,  as  a  sly  hit  at  Kentucky  talk, 
"  she's  up  stars,  sick  with  the  rheumatism." 

"  Good,"  said  Durward,  "  but  why  are  you  not  down 
here  with  us  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  want  to  come,"  was  her  reply ;  and  Dur 
ward,  leading  her  into  the  parlor,  continued,  "  but  now 
that  you  are  here,  you  must  stay." 

"  Pretty,  isn't  she,"  said  Nellie,  as  the  full  blaze  of  the 
chandelier  fell  upon  'Lena. 

uRath-er,"  was  Carrie's  hesitating  reply. 

She  felt  annoyed  that  'Lena  should  be  in  the  parlor,  and 
provoked  that  Durward  should  notice  her  in  any  way, 
and  at  the  first  opportunity  she  told  him  "  how  much  she 
both  troubled  and  mortified  them,  by  her  vulgarity  and 
obstinacy,"  adding  that  "  she  had  a  most  violent  temper." 
From  Nellie  she  had  learned  that  Durward  particularly 
disliked  passionate  girls,  and  foi  this  reason  she  strove  to 
give  him  the  impression  that  'Lena  was  such  an  one. 
Once  or  twice  she  fancied  him  half  inclined  to  disbelieve 
her,  as  he  saw  how  readily  'Lena  joined  in  their  amuse 
ments,  and  how  good-humoredly  she  bore  John  Jr.'s  teas 
ing,  and  then  she  hoped  something  would  occur  to  prove 
her  words  true.  Her  wish  was  gratified. 

The  next  day  was  dark  and  stormy,  confining  the  young 
people  to  the  house.  About  ten  o'clock  the  negro  who 
had  been  to  the  post-office  returned,  bringing  letters  for 
the  family,  among  which  was  one  for  'Lena,  so  curious  in 
its  shape  and  superscription,  that  even  the  negro  grinned 
as  he  handed  it  out.  'Lena  was  not  then  present,  and  Car 


SCHEMING.  ^3 

ric,  taking  the  letter,  exclaimed,  "Now  if  this  isn't  the 
last  specimen  from  Yankeedom.  Just  listen, — "  and  she 
spelled  out  the  direction—"  To  Mis  HELL-EN Y  RIVERS. 
state  of  Kentucky,  county  of  woodfordr  Dorsey  post  offis, 
care  of  Mis  nichals." 

Unobserved  by  any  one,  'Lena  had  entered  the  parloi 
in  time  to  hear  every  word,  and  when  Carrie,  chancing, 
to  espy  her,  held  out  the  letter,  saying,  "  Here,  Ilelleny, 
I  guess  this  came  from  down  east,"  she  darted  forward, 
and  striking  the  letter  from  Carrie's  hand,  stamped  upon 
it  with  her  foot,  declaring  "  she'd  never  open  it  in  the 
world,"  and  saying  "  they  might  do  what  they  pleased 
with  it  for  all  of  her." 

"  Read  it — may  we  read  it  ?  "  eagerly  asked  Carrie, 
delighted  to  see  'Lena  doing  such  justice  to  her  reputation. 

"  Yes,  read  it !  "  almost  screamed  'Lena,  and  before  any 
one  could  interpose  a  word,  Carrie  had  broken  the  seal 
and  commenced  reading,  announcing,  first,  that  it  came 
from  "  Joel  Slocum  ! "  It  was  as  follows : 

"  Dear  Ilelleny,  mebby  you'll  wonder  when  you  see  a 
1  stter  from  me,  but  I'll  be  hanged  if  I  can  help  'ritin',  I  am 
BO  confounded  lonesome  now  you  are  gone,  that  I  dun 
know  nothing  what  to  do  with  myself.  So  I  set  on  the 
great  rock  where  the  saxefax  grows,  and  think,  and  think, 
till  it  seems 's  ef  my  head  would  bust  open.  Wall,  how  do 
you  git  along  down  amongst  them  heathenish  Kentucks 
&  niggers  ?  I  s'pose  there  ain't  no  great  diiference  be 
tween  'em,  is  there  ?  When  I  git  a  little  more  larnin',  I 
b'lieve  I'll  come  down  there  to  keep  school.  O,  I  forgot 
to  tell  you  that  our  old  line  back  cow  has  got  a  calf— the 
prettiest  little  critter — Dad  has  gin  her  to  me,  and  I  call 
her  Helleny,  I  do,  I  swow !  And  when  she  capers  round, 


B4  'LENA  RIVERS. 

she  makes  me  think  of  the  way  you  danced  '  High  putty 
Martin '  the  time  you  stuck  a  sliver  in  your  heel — " 

Up  to  this  point  'Lena  had  stood  immovable,  amid  the 
loud  shouts  of  her  companions,  but  the  fire  of  a  hundred 
volcanoes  burned  within  and  flashed  from  her  eyes.  And 
now  springing  forward,  she  caught  the  letter  from  Carrie's 
hand,  and  inflicting  a  long  scratch  upon  her  forehead,  fled 
from  the  room.  Had  not  Durward  Bellmont  been  pres 
ent,  Carrie  would  have  flown  after  her  cousin,  to  avenge 
the  insult,  and  even  now  she  was  for  a  moment  thrown  off 
her  guard,  and  starting  forward,  exclaimed,  "  the  tigress!" 

Drawing  his  fine  cambric  handkerchief  from  his  pocket, 
Durward  gently  wiped  the  blood  from  her  white  brow, 
saying  "  Never  mind.  It  is  n6t  a  deep  scratch." 

"  I  wish  't  was  deeper,"  muttered  John  Jr.  "  You'd 
no  business  to  serve  her  so  mean." 

An  angry  retort  rose  to  Carrie's  lips,  but,  just  in  time 
to  prevent  its  utterance,  Durward  also  spoke,  saying, 
"  It  was  too  bad  to  tease  her  so,  but  we  were  all  more  or 
less  to  blame,  and  I'm  not  sure  but  we  ought  to  apologize." 

Carrie  felt  that  she  would  die,  almost,  before  she'd 
apologize  to  such  as  'Lena,  and  still  she  thought  it  might 
be  well  enough  to  give  Durward  the  impression  that  she 
was  doing  her  best  to  make  amends  for  her  fault.  Ac 
cordingly,  the  next  time  her  cousin  appeared  in  the  par 
lor  she  was  all  smiles  and  affability,  talking  a  great  deal  to 
'Lena,  who  returned  very  short  but  civil  answers,  while 
her  face  wore  a  look  which  Durward  construed  into  de 
fiance  and  hatred  of  everybody  and  everything. 

"  Too  passionate,"  thought  he,  turning  from  her  to  Car 
rie,  jrhose  voice,  modulated  to  its  softest  tones,  rang  out 
clear  and  musical,  as  she  sported  and  laughed  with  her 


SCHEMING.  05 

moody  cousin,  appearing  the  very  essence  of  sweetness 
and  amiability! 

Pity  he  could  not  have  known  how  bitterly  'Lena  had 
wept  over  her  hasty  action — not  because  lie  witnessed  it, 
but  because  she  knew  it  was  wrong !  Pity  he  could  not 
have  read  the  tear-blotted  note,  which  she  laid  on  Carrie's 
work-box,  and  in  which  was  written,  "  I  am  sorry,  Carrie, 
that  I  hurt  you  so.  I  didn't  know  what  I  was  about,  but  I 
will  try  and  not  get  so  angry  again."  Pity,  too,  that  he 
did  not  see  the  look  of  contempt  with  which  Carrie  pe 
rused  this  note ;  and  when  the  two  girls  accidentally  met 
in  the  upper  hall,  and  'Lena  laid  her  hand  gently  on  Car 
rie's  arm,  it  is  a  thousand  pities  he  was  not  present  to  seo 
how  fiercely  she  was  repulsed,  Carrie  exclaiming,  "  Get 
out  of  my  sight  1  I  hate  you,  and  so  do  all  of  them  down 
stairs,  Durward  in  particular." 

Had  he  known  all  this  he  would  have  thought  differ 
ently  of  'Lena,  who,  feeling  that  she  was  not  wanted  in 
the  parlor,  kept  herself  entirely  aloof,  never  again  appear 
ing  during  the  remainder  of  his  stay.  Once  Durward 
asked  for  her,  and  half  laughingly  Carrie  replied,  that 
"  she  had  not  yet  recovered  from  her  pouting  n't."  Could 
he  have  known  her  real  occupation,  he  might  have  changed 
his  mind  again.  The  stormy  weather  had  so  increased 
Mrs.  Nichols'  rheumatic  complaint,  that  now,  perfectly 
crippled,  she  lay  as  helpless  as  a  child,  carefully  nursed  by 
'Lena  and  old  Aunt  Polly,  who,  spite  of  her  own  infirmi 
ties,  had  hobbled  in  to  wait  upon  her  friend.  Never  but 
once  did  Mrs.  Livingstone  go  near  her  mother's  sick 
room — "  the  smell  of  herbs  made  her  faint,"  she  said ! 
But  to  do  her  justice,  we  must  say  that  she  gave  Polly 
unqualified  permission  to  order  anything  she  pleased /or 
the  invalid. 

Toward  the  close  of  the  third  day,  the  company  left, 


5?6  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Nellie  Douglass,  who  really  liked  'Lena,  and  wished  to  bid 
her  good-by,  whispered  to  John  Jr.,  asking  him  to  show  her 
the  way  to  his  cousin's  room.  No  one  except  members 
of  the  family  had  ever  been  in  Mrs.  Nichols'  apartment, 
and  for  a  moment  John  Jr.  hesitated,  knowing  well  that 
Nellie  could  not  fail  to  observe  the  contrast  it  presented 
to  the  other  richly-furnished  chambers. 

"  They  ought  to  be  mortified — it'll  serve  'em  right," 
he  thought,  at  last,  and  motioning  Nellie  to  follow  him, 
he  silently  led  the  way  to  his  grandmother's  room,  where 
their  knock  was  answered  by  Aunt  Polly's  gruff  voice, 
which  bade  them  "  come  in." 

They  obeyed,  but  Nellie  started  back  when  she  saw 
how  greatly  inferior  was  this  room  to  the  others  around  it. 
In  an  instant  her  eye  took  in  everything,  and  she  readily 
comprehended  the  whole. 

"  It  isn't  my  doings,  by  a  jug-full !  "  whispered  John  Jr., 
himself  reddening  as  he  noted  the  different  articles  of  fur 
niture  which  had  never  before  seemed  so  meager  and 
poor. 

On  the  humble  bed,  in  a  half-upright  position,  lay  Mrs 
Nichols,  white  as  the  snowy  cap-border  which  shaded  he 
face.     Behind   her   sat  'Lena,  supporting  her  head,  and 
when  Nellie  entered,  she  was  carefully  pushing  back  the 
few  gray  locks  which  had  fallen  over  the  invalid's  fore 
head,  her  own  bright  curls  mingling  with  them,  and  rest 
ing,  some  on  her  neck,  and  some  on  her  grandmother's 
shoulder.     A  deep  flush  dyed  her  cheeks  when  she  saw 
Nellie,  who   thought  she  had  never  looked  upon  a  sight 
more  beautiful. 

"  I  did  not  know  your  grandmother  was  ill,"  said  she, 
coming  forward  and  gently  touching  the  swollen  hand 
which  lay  outside  the  counterpane. 

Mrs.  Nichols  was  not  too  ill  to  talk,  and  forthwith  she  com- 


SCHEMING.  97 

menced  a  history  of  her  malady,  beginning  at  the  time  shn 
first  had  it  when  'Lena's  mother  was  a  year  and  a  day  old 
frequently  quoting  Nancy  Scovandyke,  and  highly  en 
tertammg  Nellie,  who  listened  until  warned  by  the  sound 
the  carnage,  as  it  came  round  to  the  door,  that  she 
must  go. 

"We  are  going  back  to  Uncle  Atherton's,"  said  she, 
I  wanted  to  bid  you  good-by,  and  ask  you  to  visit 
me  in  Frankfort  with  your  cousins.  Will  you  do  so  ?  » 

Tins  was  wholly  unexpected  to  'Lena,  who,  without  re- 
plying  burst  into  tears.  Nellie  hardly  knew  what  to  do 

J  seldom  cried  hcrself-she  did  not  like  to  see  others 
cry-and  still  she  did  not  blame  'Lena,  for  she  felt  that 
she  could  not  help  it.  At  last,  taking  her  hand,  she  bade 

rier  farewell,  asking  if  she  should  not  oarrv  n  <™  A  i 

rf.'L       ,-i  v>c*x i  y  ti  Srood-Uy  to 

tne  otncrs. 


"Yes,  to  Mabel,"  said  'Lena. 

'And  not  Durward  ?  »  asked  Nellie 

With  something  of  her  old  spirit  'Lena  answered,  "No- 
he  hatos  me—  Carrie  says  so." 

«  Cad's  a  fool,"  muttered  John  Jr.,  while  Nellie  re- 
jomed,  «  Durward  never  hated  anybody,  and  even  if  ht 
did  he  would  not  say  so-I  mean  to  tell  him  ;  »  and  with 
another  good-by  she  was  gone. 

On  the  stairs  she  met  Durward,  who  was  looking  for 
her,  and  asked  where  she  had  been 


.aid 


— ~v  •»•§*•  you  11 

hastening  forward  he  told  his  ™,,sln  wnat  was 

Lena  longed  to  go,  but  pride,  and  the  r,.muu 


(J8  'LEX A  RIVERS. 

brance  of  Carrie's  words,  prevented  her,  and  coldly  an« 
SAvering,  "  No,  I  don't  wish  to  see  him,"  she  turned  away 
to  hide  the  tears  and  pain  which  those  words  had  cost 
her. 

This  visit  to  Grandma  Nichols'  room  was  productive 
of  some  good,  for  John  Jr.  did  not  fail  of  repeating  to  his 
mother  the  impression  which  he  saw  was  made  on  Nellie's 
mind,  adding,  that  "  though  Durward  did  not  venture  in, 
Nellie  would  of  course  tell  him  all  about  it.  And  then," 
said  he,  "  I  wouldn't  give  much  for  his  opinion  of  your 
treatment  of  your  mother. 

Angry,  because  she  felt  the  truth  of  what  her  son 
gaid,  Mrs.  Livingstone  demanded  "what  he'd  have  her 
do." 

"Do?"  he  repeated,  "give  grandmother  a  decent 
room,  or  else  fix  that  one  up,  so  it  won't  look  like  the  old 
scratch  had  been  having  a  cotillon  there.  Paper  and  paint 
it,  and  make  it  look  decent." 

Upon  this  last  piece  of  advice  Mrs.  Livingstone  resolved 
to  act,  for  recently  several  vague  rumors  had  reached  her 
ear,  touching  her  neglect  of  her  mother-in-law,  and  she 
began  herself  to  think  it  just  possible  that  a  little  of  her 
money  would  be  well  expended  in  adding  to  the  comfort 
of  her  husband's  mother.  Accordingly,  as  soon  as  Mrs. 
Nichols  was  able  to  sit  up,  her  room  underwent  a  thorough 
renovation,  and  though  no  great  amount  of  money  was 
expended  upon  it,  it  was  fitted  up  with  so  much  taste 
that  the  poor  old  lady,  whom  John  Jr.,  'Lena,  and  Anna 
had  adroitly  kept  out  of  the  way  until  her  room  was  fin 
ished,  actually  burst  into  tears  when  first  ushered  into  her 
light,  airy  apartment,  in  which  everything  looked  so  cheer 
ful  and  pleasant. 

"'Tilda  has  now  and  then  a  good  streak,"  said  she, 
while  Aunt  Hilly,  who  had  taken  a  great  deal  of  interest 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  99 

in  the  repairing  of  the  room,  felt  inclined  to  change  her 
favorite  theory  with  regard  to  her  mistress'  future 
condition. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

F  I  VE     YEARS 


in  the  fair  city  of  elms  we  again  open  the  scene. 
It  was  commencement  at  Yale,  and  the  crowd  which  filled 
the  old  Center  church  were  listening  breathlessly  to  the 
tide  of  eloquence  poured  forth  by  the  young  valedictorian. 

Durward  Bellmont,  first  in  his  studies,  first  in  his  class, 
and  first  in  the  esteem  of  his  fellow-students,  had  been 
unanimously  chosen  to  that  post  of  honor,  and  as  the  gath- 
ered  multitude  hung  upon  his  words  and  gazed  upon  his 
manly  beauty,  they  felt  that  a  better  choice  could  not 
well  have  been  made.  At  the  right  of  the  platform  sat 
a  group  of  ladies,  friends,  it  would  seem,  of  the  speaker, 
for  ever  and  anon  his  eyes  turned  in  that  direction,  and  as 
if  each  glance  incited  him  to  fresh  efforts,  his  eloquence 
increased,  until  at  last  no  sound  save  that  of  his  deep- 
toned  voice  was  heard,  so  rapt  was  every  one  in  the  words 
of  the  young  orator.  But  when  his  speech  was  ended, 
there  arose  deafening  shouts  of  applause,  while  bouquets 
fell  in  perfect  showers  at  his  feet.  Among  them  was  one 
smaller  and  more  elegant  than  the  rest,  and  as  if  it  were 
more  precious,  too,  »t  was  the  first  which  Durward  took 
from  the  floor. 

"  See,  Carrie,  he  gives  you  the  preference,"  whispered 
one  of  the  young  ladies  on  the  right ;  and  Carrie  Living, 
ston,  for  ahe  it  was,  felt  a  thrill  of  gratified  pride,  when 


100  'LENA  RIVERS. 

she  saw  how  carefully  he  guarded  the  bouquet,  which 
during  all  the  exercises  she  had  made  her  special  jare, 
calling  attention  to  it  in  so  many  different  ways  that  hardly 
any  one  who  saw  it  in  Durward's  possession,  could  fail  of 
knowing  from  what  source  it  came. 

But  then  everybody  said  they  were  engaged — so  what 
did  it  matter  ?  Everybody  but  John  Jr.,  who  was  John 
Jr.  still,  and  who  while  openly  denying  the  engagement, 
teasingly  hinted  "  that  't  was  no  fault  of  Cad's." 

For  the  last  three  years  Carrie,  Nellie,  Mabel,  and  Anna 
had  been  inmates  of  the  seminary  in  New  Haven,  and  as 
they  were  now  considered  sufficiently  accomplished  to 
enter  at  once  upon  ah1  the  gayeties  of  fashionable  life, 
John  Jr.  had  come  on  "  to  see  the  elephant,"  as  he  said, 
and  to  accompany 'them  home.  Carrie  had  fulfilled  the 
promise  of  her  girlhood,  and  even  her  brother  acknowl 
edged  that  she  was  handsome  in  spite  of  her  nose^  which 
like  everybody's  else,  still  continued  to  be  the  most  promi 
nent  feature  of  her  face !  She  was  proud,  too,  as  well  as 
beautiful,  and  throughout  the  city  she  was  known  as  the 
"haughty  southern  belle,"  admired  by  some  and  dis 
liked  by  many.  Among  the  students  she  was  not  half  so 
popular  as  her  unpretending  sister,  whose  laughing  blue 
eyes  and  sunny  brown  hair  were  often  toasted,  together 
with  the  classical  brow  and  dignified  bearing  of  Nellie 
Douglass,  who  had  lost  some  of  the  hoydenish  propensi 
ties  of  her  girlhood,  and  who  was  now  a  graceful,  ele- 
o-ant  creature  just  merging  into  nineteen — the  pride  of 
her  widowed  father,  and  the  idol  still  of  John  Jr.,  whose 
boyish  preference  had  ripened  mto  a  kind  of  love  such  as 
only  he  could  feel. 

"With  poor  Mabel  Ross  it  had  fared  worse,  her  plain 
face  and  dumpy  little  figure  never  receiving  the  least  at 
tention  except  from  D.urward  Bellmont,  who,  pity  big  her 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  101 

lonely  condition,  frequently  left  more  congenial  society  for 
the  sake  of  entertaining  her.  Of  any  one  else  Carrie 
would  have  been  jealous,  but  feeling  sure  that  Mabel  had 
no  attraction  save  her  wealth,  and  knowing  that  Durward 
did  not  care  for  that,  she  occasionally  suffered  him  to 
leave  her  side,  always  feeling  amply  repaid  by  the  evident 
reluctance  with  which  she  left  her  society  for  that  of 
Mabel's. 

When  ill-naturedly  rallied  by  his  companions  upon  his 
preference  for  Carrie,  Durward  would  sometimes  laugh 
ingly  refer  them  to  the  old  worn-out  story  of  the  fox  and 
the  grapes,  for  to  scarcely  any  one  save  himself  did  Car 
rie  think  it  worth  her  while  to  be  even  gracious.  This 
conduct  was  entirely  at  variance  with  her  natural  dispo 
sition,  for  she  was  fond  of  admiration,  come  from  what 
source  it  might,  and  she  would  never  have  been  so  cold 
and  distant  to  all  save  Durward,  had  she  not  once  heard 
him  say  that  "  he  heartily  despised  a  flirt,  and  that  no 
young  lady  could  at  all  interest  him  if  he  suspected  her 
of  being  a  coquette." 

This,  then,  was  the  secret  of  her  reserve.  She  was  re 
solved  upon  winning  Durward  Bellmont,  deeming  no  sac 
rifice  too  great  if  in  the  end  it  secured  the  prize.  It  is 
true  there  was  one  sophomore,  a  perfumed,  brainless  fop, 
from  Rockford,  1ST.  Y.,  who,  next  to  Durward,  was  appa 
rently  most  in  favor,  but  the  idea  of  her  entertaining  even 
a  shadow  of  a  liking  for  Tom  Lakin,  was  too  ludicrous  to 
be  harbored  for  a  moment,  so  his  attentions  went  for 
naught,  public  opinion  uniting  in  giving  her  to  Mr.  Bell- 
xnont. 

With  the  lapse  of  years,  Anna,  too,  had  greatly  im 
proved.  The  extreme  delicacy  of  her  figure  was  gone, 
and  though  her  complexion  was  as  white  and  pure  as 
marble,  it  denoted  perfect  health.  With  John  Jr.  she 


102  'LEKA  RIVERS. 

was  still  the  favorite  sister,  the  one  whom  he  loved  the 
best.  "  Carrie  was  too  stiff  and  proud,"  he  said,  and 
though  when  he  met  her  in  New  Haven,  after  a  year's 
absence,  his  greeting  was  kind  and  brotherly,  he  soon 
turned  from  her  to  Anna  and  Nellie,  utterly  neglecting 
Mabel,  who  turned  away  to  her  chamber  to  cry,  because 
no  one  cared  for  her. 

Frequently  had  his  mother  reminded  him  of  the  im 
portance  of  securing  a  wealthy  bride,  always  finishing  her 
discourse  by  speaking  of  Mr.  Douglass'  small  income, 
and  enlarging  upon  th  e  immense  wealth  of  Mabel  Ross, 
whose  very  name  had  become  disagreeable  to  John  Jr. 
At  one  time  his  father  had  hoped  he,  too,  would  enter 
college,  but  the  young  man  derided  the  idea  of  his  ever 
making  a  scholar,  saying,  however,  more  in  sport  than  in 
earnest,  that  "  he  was  willing  to  enter  a  store,  or  learn  a 
trade,  so  that  in  case  he  was  ever  obliged  to  earn  his  own 
living,  he  would  have  some  means  of  doing  it ;"  but  to 
this  his  mother  would  not  listen.  He  was  her  "  darling 
boy,"  and  "his  hands,  soft  and  white  as  those  of  a 
girl,  should  never  become  hardened  and  embrowned  by 
labor  !"  So,  while  his  sisters  were  away  at  school,  he 
was  at  home,  hunting,  fishing,  riding,  teasing  his  grand 
mother,  tormenting  the  servants,  and  shocking  his  mother 
by  threatening  to  make  love  to  his  cousin  'Lena,  to  whom 
he  was  at  once  a  pest  and  a  comfort,  and  who  now  claims 
a  share  of  our  attention. 

Wlien  it  was  decided  to  send  Carrie  and  Anna  to  New 
Haven,  Mr.  Livingstone  proposed  that  'Lena  should  also 
accompany  them,  but  this  plan  Mrs.  Livingstone  opposed 
with  all  her  force,  declaring  that  her  money  should  never 
be  spent  in  educating  the  "  beggarly  relatives  "  of  her 
husband,  who  in  this,  as  in  numerous  other  matters,  waa 
forced  to  yield  the  point.  As  Mr.  Everett's  services  were 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  103 

now  no  longer  needed,  he  accepted  the  offer  of  a  situa 
tion  in  the  family  of  General  Fontaine,  a  high-bred,  south 
ern  gentleman,  whose  plantation  was  distant  but  half  a 
mile  from  "  Maple  Grove;"  and  as  he  there  taught  a  reg 
ular  school,  having  under  his  charge  several  of  the  daugh 
ters  of  the  neighboring  planters,  it  was  decided  that  'Lena 
also  should  continue  under  his  instruction. 

Thus  while  Carrie  and  Anna  were  going  through  the 
daily  routine  of  a  fashionable  boarding-school,  'Lena  was 
storing  her  mind  with  useful  knowledge,  and  though  her 
accomplishments  were  not  quite  so  showy  as  those  of  her 
cousins,  they  had  in  them  the  ring  of  the  pure  metal. 
Although  her  charms  were  as  yet  but  partially  developed, 
she  was  a  creature  of  rare  loveliness,  and  many  who  saw 
her  for  the  first  time,  marveled  that  aught  so  beautiful 
could  be  real.  She  had  never  seen  Durward  Bellmont 
since  that  remarkable  Christmas  week,  but  many  a  time 
had  her  cheeks  flushed  with  a  feeling  which  she  could  not 
define,  as  she  read  Anna's  accounts  of  the  flattering  at 
tentions  which  he  paid  to  Carrie,  who,  when  at  home, 
still  treated  her  with  haughty  contempt  or  cool  indif 
ference. 

But  for  this  she  did  not  care.     She   knew  she  was 

loved  by  Anna,  and  liked  by  John  Jr.,  and  she  hoped 

nay,  half  believed — that  she  was  not  wholly  indifferent  to 
her  uncle,  who,  while  he  seldom  made  any  show  of  his 
affection,  still  in  his  heart  admired  and  felt  proud  of  her. 
With  his  wife  it  was  different.  She  hated  'Lena— hated 
her  because  she  was  beautiful  and  talented,  and  because 
in  her  presence  Carrie  and  Anna  were  ever  in  the  shade. 
Still  her  niece  was  too  general  a  favorite  in  the  neigh 
borhood  to  allow  of  open  hostility  at  home,  and  so  the 
proud  woman  ground  together  her  glittering  teeth — and 
waited! 


104  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Among  the  many  who  admired  'Lena,  there  was  no  one 
who  gave  her  such  full  and  unbounded  homage  as  did  her 
grandmother,  whose  life  at  Maple  Grove  had  been  one  of 
shadow,  seldom  mingled  with  sunshine.  Gradually  had 
she  learned  the  estimation  in  which  she  was  held  by  her 
son's  wife,  and  she  felt  how  bitter  it  was  to  eat  the  bread 
of  dependence.  As  far  as  she  was  able,  'Lena  shielded 
her  from  the  sneers  of  her  aunt,  who,  thinking  she  had 
done  all  that  was  required  of  her  when  she  fixed  their 
room,  would  for  days  and  even  weeks  appear  utterly  ob 
livious  of  their  presence,  or  frown  darkly  whenever  chance 
threw  them  in  her  way.  She  had  raised  no  objection  to 
'Lena's  continuing  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Everett,  who,  she  hoped, 
would  not  prove  indifferent  to  her  charms,  fancying  that 
in  this  way  she  would  sooner  be  rid  of  one  whom  she 
feared  as  a  rival  of  her  daughters. 

But  she  was  mistaken ;  for  much  as  Malcolm  Everett 
might  admire  'Lena,  another  image  than  hers  was  en 
shrined  in  his  heart,  and  most  carefully  guarded  was  the 
little  golden  curl,  cut  in  seeming  sport  from  the  head  it 
once  adorned,  and  now  treasured  as  a  sacred  memento 
of  the  past.  Believing  that  it  would  be  so  because  she 
washed  it  to  be  so,  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  more  than  once 
whispered  to  her  female  friends  her  surmises  that  Mal 
colm  Everett  would  marry  'Lena,  and  at  the  time  of 
which  we  are  speaking,  it  was  pretty  generally  understood 
that  a  strong  liking,  at  least,  if  not  an  engagement,  existed 
between  them. 

Old  Captain  Atherton,  grown  more  smooth  and  portly, 
rubbed  his  fat  hands  complacently,  and  while  applying 
Twigg's  Preparation  to  his  hair,  congratulated  himself 
that  the  only  rival  he  had  ever  leared  was  now  out  of 
his  way.  Thinking,  too,  that  'Lena  had  conferred  a  great 
favor  upon  himself  by  taking  Mr.  Everett  from  off  his 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  105 

mind,  he  became  exceedingly  polite  to  her,  making  her 
little  presents  and  frequently  asking  her  to  ride.  When 
ever  these  invitations  were  accepted,  they  were  sure  to 
be  followed  by  a  ludicrous  description  to  Anna,  who 
laughed  merrily  over  her  cousin's  letters,  declaring  her 
self  half  jealous  of  her  "gray-haired  lover,"  as  she  termed 
the  captain. 

All  such  communications  were  eagerly  seized  by  Carrie, 
and  fully  discussed  in  the  presence  of  Durward,  who  grad 
ually  received  the  impression  that  'Lena  was  a  flirt,  a 
species  of  womankind  which  he  held  in  great  abhorrence. 
Just  before  he  left  New  Haven,  he  received  a  letter  from 
his  step-father,  requesting  him  to  stop  for  a  day  or  two  at 
Captain  Atherton's,  where  he  would  join  him,  as  he 
wished  to  look  at  a  country-seat  near  Mr.  Livingstone's, 
which  was  now  for  sale.  This  plan  gave  immense  satis 
faction  to  Carrie,  and  when  her  brother  proposed  that 
Durward  should  stop  at  their  father's  instead  of  the  cap 
tain's,  she  seconded  the  invitation  so  warmly,  that  Dur 
ward  finally  consented,  and  word  was  immediately  sent 
to  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  hold  herself  in  readiness  to  re 
ceive  Mr.  Bellmont. 

"  Oh,  I  do  hope  your  father  will  secure  Woodlawn," 
Baid  Carrie,  as  in  the  parlor  of  the  Burnett  house,  Cincin 
nati,  they  were  discussing  the  projected  purchase. 

The  other  young  ladies  had  gone  out  shopping,  and 
John  Jr.,  who  was  present,  and  who  felt  just  like  teasing 
his  sister,  replied,  "  What  do  you  care  ?  Mrs.  Graham 
has  no  daughters,  and  she  wont  fancy  such  a  chit  as  you 
so  it  must  be  Dili-ward's  society  that  you  so  much  desire, 
but  I  can  assure  you  that  your  nose  will  be  broken  when 
once  he  sees  our  'Lena." 

Carrie  turned  toward  the  window  to  hide  her  wrath  at 
E* 


106  'LENA  RIVERS. 

this  speech,  while  Durward  asked  if  "  Miss  Rivers  were 
so  very  handsome  ?  " 

"  Handsome  I "  repeated  John.  "  That  don't  begin 
to  express  it.  Cad  is  what  I  call  handsome,  but  'Lena  is 
beautiful,  more  beautiful,  most  beautiful — now  you  have 
it  superlatively.  Such  complexion — such  eyes — such  hair 
— I'll  be  hanged  if  I  haven't  been  more  than  half  in  love 
with  her  myself." 

"  I  really  begin  to  tremble,"  said  Durward,  laughingly, 
while  Carrie  rejoined,  "  You've  only  to  make  the  slight 
est  advance,  and  your  love  will  be  returned  ten-fold, 
for  'Lena  is  very  susceptible,  and  already  encourages  sev 
eral  admirers." 

"  There,  my  fair  sister,  you  are  slightly  mistaken,"  in 
terrupted  John  Jr.,  who  was  going  on  farther  in  his  re 
marks,  when  Durward  asked  if  "  she  ever  left  any  marks 
of  her  affection,"  referring  to  the  scratch  she  had  given 
Carrie ;  who,  before  her  brother  had  time  to  speak,  re 
plied  that  "the  will  and  the  claws  remained  the  same, 
though  common  decency  kept  them  hidden  when  it  was 
necessary." 

"  That's  downright  slander,"  said  John  Jr.,  determined 
now  upon  defending  his  cousin.  "  Lena  has  a  high  tem 
per,  I  acknowledge,  but  she  tries  hard  to  govern  it,  and 
for  nearly  two  years  I've  not  seen  her  angry  once,  though 
she's  had  every  provocation  under  heaven." 

'•  She  knows  when  and  where  to  be  amiable,"  retorted 
Carrie.  "  Any  one  of  her  admirers  would  tell  the  same 
story  with  yourself." 

At  this  juncture  John  Jr.  was  called  for  a  moment 
from  the  room,  and  Carrie,  fearing  she  had  said  too  much, 
immediately  apologized  to  Durward,  saying,  "  it  was  not 
often  that  she  allowed  herself  to  speak  against  her  cousin, 
and  that  she  should  not  have  done  so  now,  were  not 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  107 

John  so  much  blinded,  that  her  mother,  knowing  'Lena's 
ambitious  nature,  sometimes  seriously  feared  the  con- 
sequence.  I  know,"  said  she,  "  that  John  fancies  Nellie, 
but  'Lena's  influence  over  him  is  very  great." 

Dunvard  made  no  reply,  and  Carrie  continued :  "  I'm 
always  sorry  when  I  speak  against  'Lena  ;  she  is  my  cous 
in,  and  I  wouldn't  prejudice  any  one  against  her  ;  so  you 
must  forget  my  unkind  remarks,  which  would  never  have 
been  uttered  in  the  presence  of  a  stranger.  She  is  hand 
some  and  agreeable,  and  you  must  like  her  in  spite  of 
what  I  said." 

"  I  cannot  refuse  when  so  fair  a  lady  pleads  her  cause," 
was  Durward's  gallant  answer,  and  as  the  other  young 
ladies  then  entered  the  room,  the  conversation  ceased. 

Meanwhile  'Lena  was  very  diiferently  employed.  Nearly 
a  year  had  elapsed  since  she  had  seen  her  cousins,  and  her 
heart  bounded  with  joy  at  the  thought  of  meeting  Anna, 
whom  she  dearly  loved.  Carrie  was  to  her  an*  object  of 
indifference,  rather  than  dislike,  and  ofttimes  had  she 
thought,  "  If  she  would  only  let  me  love  her."  But  it 
could  not  be,  for  there  was  no  affinity  between  them. 
Carrie  was  proud  and  overbearing — -jealous  of  her  high- 
spirited  cousin,  who,  as  John  Jr.  had  said,  strove  hard  to 
subdue  her  temper,  and  who  now  seldom  resented  Carrie's 
insults,  except  when  they  were  leveled  at  her  aged  grand 
mother. 

As  we  have  before  stated,  news  had  been  received  at 
Maple  Grove  that  Durward  would  accompany  her  cousins 
home.  Mr.  Graham  would,  of  course,  join  him  there,  and 
accordingly,  extensive  preparations  were  immediately 
commenced.  An  unusual  degree  of  sickness  was  prevail 
ing  among  the  female  portion  of  Mrs.  Livingstone's  ser 
vants,  and  the  very  day  before  the  company  was  expect 
ed,  Aunt  Milly,  the  head  cook,  was  taken  suddenly  ill 


108  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Coaxing,  scolding,  and  threatening  were  alike  ineffectual. 
The  old  negress  would  not  say  she  was  well  when  she 
wasn't,  and  as  Hagar,  the  next  in  command,  was  also  sick, 
(lazy,  as  her  mistress  called  it,)  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  her 
self  obliged  to  superintend  the  cookery. 

"  Grosser  than  a  "bar,"  as  the  little  darkies  said,  she  flew 
back  and  forth,  from  kitchen  to  pantry,  her  bunch  of  keys 
rattling,  the  corners  of  her  mouth  drawn  back,  and  her 
hands  raised  ready  to  strike  at  anything  that  came  in  her 
way.  As  if  there  were  a  fatality  attending  her  move 
ments,  she  was  unfortunate  in  whatever  she  undertook. 
The  cake  was  burned  black,  the  custard  curdled,  the  pre 
serves  were  found  to  be  working,  the  big  preserve  dish 
got  broken,  a  thunder  shower  soured  the  cream,  and  ta 
king  it  all  in  all,  she  really  had  trouble  enough  to  discon 
cert  the  most  experienced  housekeeper.  Still,  the  few  ne 
groes  able  to  assist,  thought  "  she  needn't  be  so  fetch-ed 
cross." 

But  cross  she  was,  feeling  more  than  once  inclined  to 
lay  witchcraft  to  the  charge  of  old  Milly,  who  comfortably 
ensconced  in  bed,  listened  in  dismay  to  the  disastrous  ac 
counts  brought  her  from  time  to  time  from  the  kitchen, 
mentally:  congratulating  herself  the  while  upon  not  being 
within  hearing  of  her  mistress'  tongue.  Once  Mrs.  Nich 
ols  attempted  to  help,  but  she  was  repulsed  so  angrily  that 
'Lena  did  not  presume  to  offer  her  services  until  the  day 
of  their  arrival,  when,  without  a  word,  she  repaired  to  the 
chambers,  which  she  swept  and  dusted,  arranging  the  fur. 
niture,  and  making  everything  ready  for  the  comfort  of 
the  travelers.  Then  descending  to  the  parlors,  she  went 
through  the  same  process  there,  filled  the  vases  with  fresh 
flowers,  looped  back  the  curtains,  opened  the  piano, 
wheeled  the  sofa  a  little  to  the  right,  the  large  chair 
little  to  the  left,  and  then  going  to  the  dining-room,  sli* 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  109 

set  the  table  in  the  most  perfect  order,  doing  all  so  quietly 
that  her  aunt  knew  nothing  of  it  until  it  was  done.  Jake, 
the  coachman,  had  gone  down  to  Frankfort  after  them, 
and  as  he  was  not  expected  to  return  until  between  three 
and  four,  dinner  was  deferred  until  that  hour. 

From  sunrise  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  worked  imlastri- 
ously,  until  her  face  and  temper  were  at  a  boiling  heat. 
The  clock  was  on  the  point  of  striking  three,  and  she  was 
bending  over  a  roasting  turkey,  when  'Lena  ventured  to 
approach  her,  saying,  "  I  have  seen  Aunt  Milly  baste  a 
turkey  many  a  time,  and  I  am  sure  I  can  do  it  as  well  a? 
she." 

"  "Well,  what  of  it  ?  "  was  the  uncivil  answer. 

'Lena's  temper  choked  her,  but  forcing  it  down,  she  re 
plied:  "Why,  it  is  almost  three,  and  I  thought  perhaps* 
you  would  want  to  cool  and  dress  yourself  before  they 
came.  I  can  see  to  the  dinner,  I  know  I  can.  Please  let 
me  try." 

Somewhat  mollified  by  her  niece's  kind  manner,  Mrs. 
Livingstone  resigned  her  post  and  repaired  to  her  own 
room,  while  'Lena,  confining  her  long  curls  to  the  top  of 
her  head  and  donning  the  wide  check-apron  which  her  aunt 
had  thrown  aside,  set  herself  at  work  with  a  right  good 
will. 

"  What  dat  ar  you  say  ?  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Milly,  lifting 
her  woolly  head  from  her  pillow,  and  looking  at  the  little 
colored  girl,  who  had  brought  to  her  the  news  that 
"  young  miss  was  in  de  kitchen."  What  dat  ar  you  tell- 
in'  ?  Miss  'Leny  pokin'  'mong  de  pots  and  kittles,  and  did 
ole  nigger  lazin'  in  bed  jes  like  white  folks.  Long  as 
'twas  ole  miss,  I  didn't  keer.  Good  'nough  for  her  to 
roast,  blister,  and  bile ;  done  get  used  to  it,  case  she's  got 
to  in  kingdom  come,  no  mistake — he ! — he !  But  little 
Miss  Leny,  it's  too  bad  to  bake  her  Jambs-wool  hands  and 


110  'LENA    RIVERS. 

face,  and  all  de  quality  comin' ;  I'll  hobble  up  thar,  if  1 
can  stand." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word  she  got  out  of  bed,  and 
crawling  up  to  the  kitchen,  insisted  upon  taking  'Lena's 
place,  saying,  "  she  could  sit  in  her  chair  and  tell  the  rest 
what  to  do." 

For  a  time  'Lena  hesitated,  the  old  woman  seemed  so 
faint  and  weak,  but  the  sound  of  wheels  decided  her. 
Springing  to  the  sideboard  in  the  dining-room,  she  brought 
Aunt  Milly  a  glass  of  wine,  which  revived  her  so  much 
that  she  now  felt  willing  to  leave  her.  By  this  time  the 
carriage  was  at  the  door,  and  to  escape  unobserved  was 
now  her  great  object.  But  this  she  could  not  do,  for  as 
she  was  crossing  the  hall,  Anna  espied  her,  and  darting 
forward,  seized  her  around  the  neck,  at  the  same  time 
dragging  her  toward  Carrie,  who,  with  Durward's  eye 
upon  her,  kissed  her  twice;  then  turning  to  him,  she  said, 
"I  suppose  you  do  not  need  an  introduction  to  Miss 
Rivers?" 

Durward  was  almost  guilty  of  the  rudeness  of  starting 
at  the  strangeness  of  'Lena's  appearance,  for  as  nearly  as 
she  could,  she  looked  like  a  fright.  Bending  over  hot 
stoves  and  boiling  gravies  is  not  very  beneficial  to  one's 
complexion,  and  'Lena's  cheeks,  neck,  forehead,  and  nose 
were  of  a  purplish  red — her  hair  was  tucked  back  in  a 
manner  exceedingly  unbecoming,  while  the  broad  check 
apron,  which  came  nearly  to  her  feet,  tended  in  nowise  to 
improve  her  appearance.  She  felt  it  keenly,  and  after  re 
turning  Durward's  salutation,  she  broke  away  before 
Anna  or  John  Jr.,  who  were  both  surprised  at  her  looks, 
had  time  to  ask  a  question. 

Running  up  to  her  room,  her  first  impulse  was  to  cry, 
but  knowing  that  would  disfigure  her  still  more,  she  bathed 
her  burning  face  and  neck,  brushed  out  her  curls,  threw 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  Ill 

on  a  simple  muslin  dress,  and  started  for  the  parlor,  ol 
which  Durward  and  Carrie  were  at  that  moment  the  only 
occupants.  As  she  was  passing  the  outer  door,  she  ob 
served  upon  one  of  the  piazza  pillars  a  half  blown  rose, 
and  for  a  moment  stopped  to  admire  it.  Durward,  who 
sat  in  a  corner,  did  not  see  her,  but  Carrie  did,  and  a  ma 
licious  feeling  prompted  her  to  draw  out  her  companion, 
who  she  felt  sure  was  disappointed  in  'Lena's  face.  They 
were  speaking  of  a  lady  whom  they  saw  at  Frankfort,  and 
whom  Carrie  pronounced  "perfectly  beautiful,"  while 
Durward  would  hardly  admit  that  she  was  even  good, 
looking. 

"I  am  surprised  at  your  taste,"  said  Carrie,  adding,  as 
she  noticed  the  proximity  of  her  cousin,  "  I  think  she  re- 
sembles  'Lena,  and  of  course  you'll  acknowledge  she  is 
beautiful." 

"  She  was  beautiful  five  years  ago,  but  she's  greatly 
changed  since  then,"  answered  Durward,  never  suspect 
ing  the  exquisite  satisfaction  his  words  afforded  Carrie, 
who  replied,  "  You  had  better  keep  that  opinion  to  your 
self,  and  not  express  it  before  Captain  Atherton  or  brother 
John." 

"  Who  takes  my  name  in  vain  ?  asked  John  Jr.,  him 
self  appearing  at  a  side  door. 

"  Oh,  John,"  said  Carrie,  "  we  were  just  disputing  about 
'Lena.  Durward  does  not  think  her  handsome." 

"  Durward  be  hanged! "  answered  John,  making  a  feint 
of  drawing  from  his  pocket  a  pistol  which  was  not  there. 
"  What  fault  has  he  to  find  with  'Lena." 

"A  little  too  rosy,  that's  all,"  said  Durward,  laughing. 
ly,  while  John  continued,  "  She  did  look  confounded  red 
and  dowdyish,  for  her.  I  don't  understand  it  myself." 

"  Here  the  hem  of  the  muslin  dress  on  which  Carrie's 
eye  had  all  the  while  been  resting,  disappeared,  and  as 


112  'LENA  RIVERS. 

there  was  no  longer  an  incentive  for  ill-natured  remarks, 
the  amiable  young  lady  adroitly  changed  the  conversation. 

John  Jr.  also  caught  a  glimpse  of  the  retreating  figure, 
and  started  in  pursuit,  in  the  course  of  his  search  passing 
the  kitchen,  where  he  was  instantly  hailed  by  Aunt  Milly, 
who,  while  bemoaning  her  own  aches  and  paii?s,  did  not 
fail  to  tell  him  how  "  Miss  'Lena,  like  a  bornod  angel 
dropped  right  out  of  'tarnity,  had  been  in  thar,  burning 
her  skin  to  a  fiery  red,  a-tryin'  to  get  up  a  tip-top  dinner." 

"  So  ho ! "  thought  the  young  man,  "  that  explains  it ; " 
and  turning  on  his  heel,  he  walked  back  to  the  house  jist 
as  the  last  bell  was  ringing  for  dinner. 

On  entering  the  dining-room,  he  found  all  the  family 
assembled,  except  'Lena.  She  had  excused  herself  on  the 
plea  of  a  severe  headache,  and  now  in  her  own  room  was 
chiding  herself  for  being  so  much  affected  by  a  remark 
accidentally  overheard.  What  did  she  care  if  Durward 
did  think  her  plain  ?  He  was  nothing  to  her,  and  never 
would  be — and  again  she  bathed  her  head,  which  really 
was  aching  sadly. 

"And  so  'Lena's  got  the  headache,"  said  John  Jr. 
"  Well,  I  don't  wonder,  cooking  all  the  dinner  as  she  did." 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  asked  Anna,  while  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone's  angry  frown  bade  her  son  keep  silence. 

Filial  obedience,  however,  wak  not  one  of  John  Jr.'a 
cardinal  virtues,  and  in  a  few  Avords,  he  repeated  what 
Aunt  Milly  had  told  him,  adding  aside  to  Durward, 
"  This  explains  the  extreme  rosin  ess  which  so  much  of 
fended  your  lordship.  When  next  you  see  her,  you'll 
change  your  mind." 

Suddenly  remembering  that  his  grandmother  had  not 
been  introduced,  he  now  presented  her  to  Durward.  The 
Noble's  blood  had  long  been  forgotten,  but  grandma  was 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER,  H3 

never  at  a  loss  for  a  subject,  and  she  commenced  talking, 
notwithstanding  Carrie's  efforts  to  keep  her  still. 

"  Now  I  think  on't,  Car'line,"  said  she  at  last,  turning 
to  her  grandaughter,  "  Now  I  think  on't,  what  made  you 
propose  to  have  my  dinner  sent  up  to  my  room.  I  hain't 
et  there  but  once  this  great  while,  and  that  was  the  day 
General  Fontaine's  folks  were  here,  and  Matilda  thought 
I  warn't  able  to  come  down." 

Durward's  half-concealed  smile  showed  that  he  under- 
derstood  it  all,  while  John  Jr.,  in  his  element  when  his 
grandmother  was  talking,  managed  to  lead  her  on,  until 
she  reached  her  favorite  theme — Nancy  Sco  Vandyke.  Here 
a  look  from  her  son  silenced  her,  and  as  dinner  was  just 
then  over,  Durward  missed  of  hearing  that  remarkable  la 
dy's  history. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  as  the  family  were  sitting  upon 
the  piazza,  'Lena  joined  them.  Her  headache  had  passed 
away,  leaving  her  face  a  shade  whiter  than  usual.  The 
flush  was  gone  from  her  forehead  and  nose,  but  mindful 
of  Durward's  remark,  the  roses  deepened  on  her  cheek, 
which  only  increased  her  loveliness. 

"I  acknowledge  that  I  was  wrong — your  cousin  is 
beautiful,"  whispered  Durward  to  Carrie,  who,  mentally 
hating  the  beauty  which  had  never  before  struck  her  so  for 
cibly,  replied  in  her  softest  tones,  "  I  knew  you  would, 
and  I  hope  you'll  be  equally  ready  to  forgive  her  for  win 
ning  hearts  only  to  break  them,  for  with  that  face  how 
can  she  help  it  ?  " 

"  A  handsome  face  is  no  excuse  for  coquetry,"  answered 
Durward ;  "  neither  can  I  think  Miss  Rivers  guilty  of  it. 
At  all  events,  I  mean  to  venture  a  little  nearer,"  and  be- 
fore  Carrie  could  frame  a  reasonable  excuse  for  keeping 
him  at  her  side,  he  had  crossed  over  and  taken  a  seat  by 
'Lena,  with  whom  he  was  soon  in  the  midst  of  an  ani- 

8 


114  'LENA  RIVERS. 

mated  conversation,  liis  surprise  each  moment  increasing 
at  the  depth  of  intellect  she  displayed,  for  the  beauty  of 
her  mind  was  equal  to  that  of  her  person.  Had  it  not 
been  for  the  remembrance  of  Carrie's  insinuations,  his  ad 
miration  would  have  been  complete.  But  anything  like 
coquetry  he  heartily  despised,  and  one  great  secret  of  his 
liking  for  Carrie,  was  her  evident  freedom  from  that  fault. 
As  yet,  he  had  seen  nothing  to  condemn  in  'Lena's  con 
duct.  Wholly  unaffected,  she  talked  with  him  as  she 
would  have  talked  with  any  stranger,  and  still  there  was 
in  her  manner  a  certain  coldness  for  which  he  could  not 
account. 

"Perhaps  she  thinks  me  not  worth  the  winning," 
thought  he,  and  in  spite  of  his  principles,  he  erelong 
found  himself  exerting  all  his  powers  to  please  and  inter 
est  her. 

About  tea-time,  Captain  Atherton  rode  into  the  yard, 
and  simultaneously  with  his  arrival,  Mr.  Everett  came 
also.  Immediately  remembering  what  he  had  heard, 
Durward,  in  his  eagerness  to  watch  'Lena,  failed  to  note 
the  crimson  flush  on  Anna's  usually  pale  cheek,  as  Mal 
colm  bent  over  her  with  his  low-spoken,  tender  words  of 
welcome,  and  when  the  phthisicky  captain,  claiming  the 
privilege  of  an  old  friend,  kissed  the  blushing  Anna,  Dur 
ward  in  his  blindness  attributed  the  scornful  expression  of 
'Lena's  face  to  a  feeling  of  unwillingness  that  any  save 
herself  should  share  the  attentions  even  of  the  captain ! 
And  in  this  impression  he  was  erelong  confirmed. 

Drawing  his  chair  up  to  Anna,  Captain  Atherton  man 
aged  to  keep  Malcolm  at  a  distance,  while  he  himself 
wholly  monopolized  the  young  girl,  who  cast  imploring 
glances  toward  her  cousin,  as  if  asking  for  relief.  Many 
a  time,  on  similar  occasions,  had  'Lena  claimed  the  atten 
tion  of  the  captain,  for  the  sake  of  leaving  Anna  free  to 


FIVE. YEARS  LATER.  115 

converse  with  Malcolm,  and  now  understanding  what  was 
wanted  of  her,  she  nodded  in  token  that  she  would  come 
to  the  rescue.  Just  then,  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  had  kept 
an  eye  upon  her  niece,  drew  near,  and  as  she  seemed  to 
want  a  seat,  'Lena  instantly  arose  and  offered  hers,  going 
herself  to  the  place  where  the  captain  was  sitting.  Ere 
long,  her  lively  sallies  and  the  captain's  loud  laugh  began 
to  attract  Mrs.  Livingstone's  attention,  and  observing  that 
Durward's  eyes  were  frequently  drawn  that  way,  she 
thought  proper  to  make  some  remarks  concerning  the  im 
propriety  of  her  niece's  conduct. 

"  I  do  wish,"  said  she,  apparently  speaking  more  to  her 
self  than  to  Durward,  "  I  do  wish  'Lena  would  learn  dis 
cretion,  and  let  Captain  Atherton  alone,  when  she  knows 
how  much  her  behavior  annoys  Mr.  Everett." 

"Is  Mr.  Everett  anything  to  her?"  asked  Durward, 
half  hoping  that  she  would  not  confirm  what  Carrie  had 
before  hinted. 

"  If  he  isn't  he  ought  to  be,"  answered  Mrs.  Livings 
tone,  with  an  ominous  shake  of  the  head.  "  Rumor  says 
they  are  engaged,  and  though  when  questioned  she  de 
nies  it,  she  gives  people  abundant  reason  to  think  so,  and 
yet  every  chance  she  gets,  she  flirts  with  Captain  Ather 
ton,  as  you  see  her  doing  now." 

"  What  can  she  or  any  other  young  girl  possibly  want 
of  that  old  man?"  asked  Durward,  laughing  at  the  very 
idea. 

"  He  is  rich.  'Lena  is  poor,  proud,  and  ambitious — 
there  lies  the  secret,"  was  Mrs.  Livingstone's  reply,  and 
thinking  she  had  said  enough  for  the  present,  she  excused 
herself,  while  she  went  to  give  orders  concerning  supper. 

John  Jr.,  and  Carrie,  too,  had  disappeared,  and  thus 
left  to  himself.  Durward  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  watch 
Lena,  who,  as  she  saw  symptoms  of  desertion  in  the  anx- 


U6  'LENA  RIVERS. 

lous  glances  which  the  captain  cast  toward  Anna,  ro- 
doubled  her  exertions  to  keep  him  at  her  side,  thus  con- 
firming  Durward  in  the  belief  that  she,  really  was  what 
her  aunt  and  Carrie  had  represented  her  to  be.  "  Poor, 
proud,  and  ambitious,"  rang  in  his  ears,  and  as  he  mistook 
the  mischievous  look  which  'Lena  frequently  sent  toward 
Anna  and  Malcolm,  for  a  desire  to  see  how  the  latter  was 
affected  by  her  conduct,  he  thought,  "  Fickle  as  fair,"  at 
the  same  time  congratulating  himself  that  he  had  obtained 
an  insight  into  her  real  character,  ere  her  exceeding  beauty 
and  agreeable  manners  had  made  any  particular  impres 
sion  upon  him. 

Knowing  she  had  done  nothing  to  offend  him,  and  feel 
ing  piqued  at  his  indifference,  'Lena  in  turn  treated  him 
BO  coldly,  that  even  Carrie  was  satisfied  with  the  phase 
which  affairs  had  assumed,  and  that  night,  in  the  privacy 
of  her  mother's  dressing-room,  expressed  her  pleasure  that 
matters  were  progressing  so  finely. 

"  You've  no  idea,  mother,"  said  she,  "  how  much  he  de 
tests  any  thing  like  coquetry.  Nellie  Douglass  thinks  it'a 
a  kind  of  monomania  with  him,  and  I  am  inclined  to  be 
lieve  it  is  so." 

"In  that  case,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "it  be 
hooves  you,  in  his  presence,  to  be  very  careful  how  you 
demean  yourself  toward  other  gentlemen." 

"  I  hav'nt  lived  nineteen  years  for  nothing,"  said  Car 
rie,  folding  her  soft  white  hands  complacently  one  over 
the  other. 

"  Speaking  of  Nellie  Douglass,"  continued  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  who  had  long  desired  this  interview  with  her 
daughter,  "  speaking  of  Nellie,  reminds  me  of  your  broth- 
er,  who  seems  perfectly  crazy  about  her." 

"  And  what  if  he  does  ? "  asked  Carrie,  her  thoughts 


FIVE  YEARS  LATER.  H? 

far  more  intent  upon  Durward  Bellmoiit  than  her  brother, 
"  Isn't  Nellie  good  enough  for  him  ?  " 

"  Yes,  good  enough,  I  admit,"  returned  her  mother, 
"  but  I  think  I  can  find  a  far  more  suitable  match — Mabel 
Ross,  for  instance.  Her  fortune  is  said  to  be  immense, 
while  Mr.  Douglass  is  worth  little  or  nothing." 

"  When  you  bring  about  a  union  between  John  Liv 
ingstone  Jr.  and  Mabel  Ross,  I  shall  have  full  confidence 
in  your  powers  to  do  anything,  even  to  the  marrying  of 
Anna  and  Grandfather  Athertou,"  ^answered  Carrie,  to 
whom  her  mother's  schemes  were  no  secret. 

"And  that,  too,  I'll  effect,  rather  than  see  her  thrown 
away  upon  a  low  bred  northerner,  who  shall  never  wed 
her— never ;"  and  the  haughty  woman  paced  up  and  down 
her  room,  devising  numerous  ways  by  which  her  long- 
cherished  three-fold  plan  should  be  effected. 

The  next  morning,  Durward  arose  much  earlier  than 
was  his  usuarcustom,  and  going  out  into  the  garden  he 
came  suddenly  upon  'Lena.  "  This,"  said  he,  "  is  a  pleas 
ure  which  I  did  not  expect  when  I  rather  unwillingly 
tore  myself  from  my  pillow." 

All  the  coldness  of  the  night  before  was  gone,  but  'Lena 
could  not  so  soon  forget,  and  quite  indifferently  she  an 
swered,  that  "she  learned  to  rise  early  among  the  New 
England  hills." 

"  An  excellent  practice,  and  one  which  more  of  our 
young  ladies  would  do  well  to  imitate,"  returned  Dur 
ward,  at  the  same  time  speaking  of  the  beautifying  effect 
which  the  morning  air  had  upon  her  complexion. 

'Lena  reddened,  for  she  recalled  his  words  of  yesterday 
concerning  her  plainness,  and  somewhat  sharply  she  re 
plied,  that  "  any  information  regarding  her  personal  ap 
pearance  was  wholly  unnecessary,  as  she  knew  very  well 
how  she  looked." 


'LENA   RIVERS. 

Durward  bit  his  lip,  and  resolving  never  to  compliment 
her  again,  walked  on  in  silence  at  her  side,  while  'Lena, 
repenting  of  her  hasty  words,  and  desirous  of  making 
amends,  exerted  herself  to  be  agreeable ;  and  by  the  time 
the  breakfast-bell  rang,  Durward  mentally  pronounced 
ner  "  a  perfect  mystery,"  which  he  would  take  delight  in 
unraveling ! 


CHAPTER  X. 

ME.     AND     MRS.     GRAHAM. 

BREAKFAST  had  been  some  time  over,  when  the  roll  of 
carriage  wheels  and  a  loud  ring  at  the  door,  announced 
the  arrival  of  Mr.  Graham,  who,  true*  to  his  appointment 
with  Durward,  had  come  up  to  meet  him,  accompanied 
by  Mrs.  Graham.  This  lady,  who  could  boast  of  having 
once  been  the  bride  of  an  English  lord,  to  say  nothing  of 
belonging  to  the  "  very  first  family  of  Virginia,"  was  a 
sort  of  bugbear  to  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who,  haughty  and 
overbearing  to  her  equals,  was  nevertheless  cringing  and 
cowardly  in  the  presence  of  those  whom  she  considered 
her  superiors.  Never  having  seen  Mrs.  Graham,  her 
ideas  concerning  her  were  quite  elevated,  and  now  when 
she  came  unexpectedly,  it  quite  overcame  her.  Unfor 
tunately,  too,  she  was  this  morning  suffering  from  a  ner 
vous  headache,  the  result  of  the  excitement  and  late  hours 
of  the  night  before,  and  on  learning  that  Mrs.  Graham 
was  in  the  parlor,  she  fell  back  in  her  rocking-chair,  and 
between  a  groan  and  a  sigh,  declared  her  utter  inability 
to  see  her  at  present,  saying  that  Carrie  must  play  the 


MR.  AJSTD  MRS.  GRAHAM.  119 

part  of  hostess  until  such  time  as  she  felt  composed  enough 
to  undertake  it. 

"Oh,  I  can't— I  shan't— that  ends  it!"  said  Carrie, 
who,  though  a  good  deal  dressed  on  Durward's  account, 
still  felt  anxious  to  give  a  few  more  finishing  touches  to 
her  toilet,  and  to  see  if  her  hair  and  complexion  were  all 
right,  ere  she  ventured  into  the  august  presence  of  her 
"  mother-in-law  elect,"  as  she  confidently  considered  Mrs. 
Graham. 

"  Anna  must  go,  then,"  persisted  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who 
knew  full  well  how  useless  it  would  be  to  press  Carrie 
farther.  "Anna  must  go — where  is  she?  Call  her, 
'Lena." 

But  Anna  was  away  over  the  fields,  enjoying  with  Mr. 
Everett  a  walk  which  had  been  planned  the  night  previ- 
vious,  and  when  'Lena  returned  with  the  intelligence  that 
she  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  her  aunt  in  great  distress 
exclaimed,  "  Mercy  me !  what  will  Mrs  Graham  think— 
and  Mr.  Livingstone,  too,  keeps  running  back  and  forth 
for  somebody  to  entertain  her.  What  shall  I  do !  I  can't 
go  in  looking  so  yellow  and  jaded  as  I  now  do  ! " 

'Lena's  first  thought  was  to  bring  her  aunt's  powder- 
ball,  as  the  surest  way  of  remedying  the  yellow  skin,  but 
knowing  that  such  an  act  would  be  deeply  resented,  she 
quickly  repressed  the  idea,  offering  instead  to  go  herself 
to  the  parlor. 

4  You  !  What  could  you  say  to  her  ?  "  returned  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  to  whom  the  proposition  was  not  altogether 
displeasing. 

"  I  can  at  least  answer  her  questions,"  returned  'Lena, 
and  after  a  moment  her  aunt  consented,  wondering  the 
while  how  'Lena,  in  her  plain  gingham  wrapper  and  linen 
collar,  could  be  willing  to  meet  the  fashionable  Mrs, 
Graham. 


120  LENA  RIVERS. 

"  But  then,"  thought  she,  "  she  has  so  little  sensibility, 
I  don't  s'pose  she  cares !  and  why  should  she  ?  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  will  of  course  look  upon  her  as  only  a  little  above  a 
servant " — •  and  with  this  complimentary  reflection  upon 
her  niece,  Mrs.  Livingstone  retired  to  her  dressing-room, 
while  'Lena,  with  a  beating  heart  and  slightly  heightened 
color,  repaired  to  the  parlor. 

On  a  sofa  by  the  window  sat  Mrs.  Graham,  and  the  mo 
ment  'Lena's  eye  fell  upon  her,  her  fears  vanished,  while 
she  could  hardly  repress  a  smile  at  the  idea  of  being 
afraid  of  her.  She  was  a  short,  dumpy,  florid  looking 
woman,  showily,  and  as  'Lena  thought,  over  dressed  for 
morning,  as  her  person  was  covered  with  jewelry,  which 
flashed  and  sparkled  with  every  movement.  Her  forehead 
was  very  low,  and  marked  by  a  scowl  of  discontent  which 
was  habitual,  for  with  everything  to  make  her  happy, 
Mrs.  Graham  was  far  from  being  so.  Exceedingly  ner 
vous  and  fidgety,  she  was  apt  to  see  only  the  darker  side, 
and  when  her  husband  and  son,  who  were  of  exactly 
opposite  temperaments,  strove  to  laugh  her  into  good 
spirits,  they  generally  made  the  matter  worse,  as  she  usu 
ally  reproached  them  with  having  no  feeling  or  sympathy 
for  her. 

Accustomed  to  a  great  deal  of  attention,  she  had  fret 
ted  herself  into  quite  a  fever  at  Mrs.  Livingstone's  appa 
rent  lack  of  courtesy  in  not  hastening  to  receive  her,  and 
when  'Lena's  light  step  was  heard  in  the  hall,  she  turned 
towai  d  the  door  with  a  frown  which  seemed  to  ask  why 
»he  had  not  come  sooner.  Durward,  who  was  present, 
immediately  introduced  his  mother,  at  the  same  time  ad 
miring  the  extreme  dignity  of  'Lena's  manner  as  she  re 
ceived  the  lady's  greeting,  apologizing  for  her  aunt's  non 
appearance,  saying  "  she  was  suffering  from  a  severe  head 
ache,  and  begged  to  be  excused  for  an  hour  or  so." 


MR.  AXD  MRS.  GRAHAM.  121 

"  Quite  excusable,"  returned  Mrs.  Graham,  at  the  samo 
time  saying  something  in  a  low  tone  about  it's  not  being 
her  wish  to  stop  there  so  early,  as  she  knew  she  was  not 
expected. 

"  But  perfectly  welcome,  nevertheless,"  'Lena  hastened 
to  say,  thinking  that  for  the  time  being  the  reputation  of 
her  uncle's  house  was  resting  upon  her  shoulders. 

"  I  dare  say,"  was  Mrs.  Graham's  ungracious  answer, 
and  then  her  little  gray,  deep-set  eyes  rested  upon  'Lena, 
wondering  if  she  were  "  a  governess  or  what  ?  "  and  think 
ing  it  strange  that  she  should  seem  so  perfectly  self- 
possessed. 

Insensibly,  too,  'Lena's  manner  won  upon  her,  for  spite 
of  her  fretfulness,  Mrs.  Graham  at  heart  was  a  kindly  dis 
posed  woman.  Ill  health  and  long  years  of  dissipation 
had  helped  to  make  her  what  she  was.  Besides  this,  she 
\vas  not  quite  happy  in  her  domestic  relations,  for  though 
Mr.  Graham  possessed  all  the  requisites  of  a  kind  and  af 
fectionate  husband,  he  could  not  remove  from  her  mind 
the  belief  that  he  liked  others  better  than  he  did  herself! 
»T  was  in  vain  that  he  alternately  laughed  at  and  reasoned 
with  her  on  the  subject.  She  was  not  to  be  convinced, 
and  so  poor  Mr.  Graham,  who  was  really  exceedingly  po 
lite  and  affable  to  the  ladies,  was  almost  constantly  pro 
voking  the  green-eyed  monster  by  his  attentions  to  some 
one  of  the  fair  sex.  In  spite  of  his  nightly  "  Caudle  "  lec 
tures,  he  would  transgress  again  and  again,  until  his  wife's 
patience  was  exhausted,  and  now  she  affected  to  have- 
given  him  up,  turning  for  comfort  and  affection  toward 
Durward,  who  was  her  special  delight,  "  the  very  apple 
of  her  eye — he  was  so  much  like  his  father,  Sir  Arthur, 
who  during  the  whole  year  that  she  lived  with  him  h:i,l 
never  once  given  her  cause  for  jealousy." 

Just  before  'Lena  entered  the  parlor,  Mr.  Graham,  had 
r 


122  'LENA    ttlVERS. 

f«»r  a  moment  stepped  out  with  Mr.  Livingstone,  but  soon 
returning,  he,  too,  was  introduced  to  the  young  lady.  It 
was  strange,  considering  'Lena's  uncommon  beauty,  that 
Mrs.  Graham  did  not  watch  her  husband's  manner,  but 
for  once  in  her  life  she  felt  no  fears,  and  looking  from  the 
window,  she  failed  to  note  the  sudden  pallor  which  over 
spread  his  face  when  Mr.  Livingstone  presented  to  him 
"  Miss  Rivers — my  niece." 

Mr.  Graham  was  a  tall,  finely-formed  man,  with  a  broad, 
good-humored  face,  whose  expression  instantly  demanded 
respect  from  strangers,  while  his  pleasant,  affable  deport 
ment  universally  won  the  friendship  of  all  who  knew  him. 
And  'Lena  was  not  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  for 
the  moment  his  warm  hand  grasped  hers  and  his  kindly 
beaming  eye  rested  upon  her,  her  heart  went  toward  him 
as  a  friend,  while  she  wondered  why  he  looked  at  her  so 
long  and  earnestly,  twice  repeating  her  name — "Miss 
Rivers — llivers." 

From  the  first,  'Lena  had  recognized  him  as  the  same 
gentleman  whom  Durward  had  called  father  in  the  cars 
years  ago,  and  when,  as  if  to  apologize  for  his  singulai 
conduct,  he  asked  if  they  had  never  met  before,  she  re 
ferred  him  to  that  time,  saying  "she  thought  it  strange 
that  he  should  remember  her." 

"  Old  acquaintances — ah — indeed  !  "  and  little  Mrs. 
Graham  nodded  and  fanned,  while  her  round,  florid  face 
grew  more  florid,  and  her  linen  cambric  went  up  to  her 
forehead  as  if  trying  to  smooth  out  the  scowl  which  was 
of  too  long  standing  to  be  smoothed. 

"  Yes,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Graham,  turning  toward  his 
wife,  "  I  had  entirely  forgotten  the  circumstance,  but  it 
seems  I  saw  her  in  the  cars  when  we  took  our  eastern  tour 
six  or  seven  years  ago.  You  were  quite  a  little  giil 
then"- —  turning  to  'Lena. 


MIL  AXI)  MRS.  GRAHAM.  123 

"  Only  ten,"  was  the  reply,  and  Mrs.  Graham,  ashamed 
of  herself  and  anxious  to  make  amends,  softened  con 
siderable  toward  'Lena,  asking  "how  long  she  had  lived 
in  Kentucky — where  she  used  to  live — and  where  her 
mother  was." 

At  this  question,  Mr.  Graham,  who  was  talking  with 
Mr.  Livingstone,  suddenly  stopped. 

"  My  mother  is  dead,"  answered  'Lena. 

"  And  your  father  ?  " 

"  Gone  to  Canada ! "  interrupted  Durward,  who  had 
heard  vague  rumors  of  'Lena's  parentage,  and  who  did 
not  quite  like  his  mother's  being  so  inquisitive. 

Mrs.  Graham  laughed ;  she  always  did  at  whatever  Dur 
ward  said  ;  while  Mr.  Graham  replied  to  a  remark  made 
by  Mr.  Livingstone  some  time  before.  Here  John  Jr.  ap 
peared,  and  after  being  formally  introduced,  he  seated 
himself  by  his  cousin,  addressing  to  her  some  trivial  re 
mark,  and  calling  her  ''Lena.  It  was  well  for  Mr.  Gra- 
hum's  after  peace  that  his  wife  was  just  then  too  much  en 
grossed  with  Durward  to  observe  the  effect  which  that 
name  produced  upon  him. 

Abruptly  rising  he  turned  toward  Mr.  Livingstone,  say 
ing,  "You  were  teUing  me  about  a  fine  species  of  cactus 
which  you  have  in  your  yard — suppose  we  go  and  see  it." 

The  cactus  having  been  duly  examined,  praised,  and 
commented  upon,  Mr.  Graham  casually  remarked,  "  Your 
niece  is  a  fine-looking  girl — 'Lena,  I  think  your  son  called 
her?" 

"  Yes,  or  Helena,  which  was  her  mother's  name." 

"And  her  mother  was  your  sister,  Helena  Livingstone  ?" 

"  No,  sir,  Nichols.  I  changed  my  name  to  gratify  a 
fancy  of  my  wife,"  returned  Mr.  Livingstone,  thinking  it 
better  to  tell  the  truth  at  once. 

Again  Mr.  Graham  bent  over  the  cactus,  inspecting  it 


124  'LEiNA  RIVERS. 

minutely,  and  keeping  his  face  for  a  long  time  concealed 
from  his  friend,  whose  thoughts,  as  was  usually  the  case 
when  his  sister  was  mentioned,  were  far  back  in  the  past. 
When  at  last  Mr.  Graham  lifted  his  head,  there  were  no 
traces  of  the  stormy  emotions  which  had  shaken  his  very 
heart-strings,  and  with  a  firm,  composed  step  he  walked 
back  to  the  parlor,  where  he  found  both  Mrs.  Livingstone 
and  Carrie  just  paying  their  respects  to  his  lady. 

Nothing  could  be  more  marked  than  the  difference  be 
tween  Carrie's  and  'Lena's  manner  toward  Mrs.  Graham. 
Even  Durward  noticed  it,  and  while  he  could  not  suffi 
ciently  admire  the  quiet  self-possession  of  the  latter,  who 
in  her  simple  morning  wrapper  and  linen  collar  had  met 
his  mother  on  perfectly  equal  terms,  he  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  felt  a  kind  of  contempt,  (pity  he  called  it,)  for 
Carrie,  who,  in  an  elegantly  embroidered  double-gown 
confined  by  a  rich  cord  and  tassels,  which  almost  swept 
the  floor,  treated  his  mother  with  a  fawning  servility  as 
disgusting  to  him  as  it  was  pleasing  to  the  lady  in  ques 
tion.  Accustomed  to  the  utmost  deference  on  account 
of  her  wealth  and  her  husband's  station,  Mrs.  Graham 
had  felt  as  if  something  were  withheld  from  her,  when 
neither  Mrs.  Livingstone  nor  her  daughters  rushed  to  re 
ceive  and  welcome  her ;  but  now  all  was  forgotten,  for 
nothing  could  be  more  flattering  than  their  attentions. 
Both  mother  and  daughter  having  the  son  in  view,  did 
their  best,  and  when  at  last  Mrs.  Graham  asked  to  be 
shown  to  her  room,  Carrie,  instead  of  ringing  for  a  ser 
vant,  offered  to  conduct  her  thither  herself;  whereupon 
Mrs.  Graham  laid  her  hand  caressingly  upon  her  shoulders, 
calling  her  a  "  dear  little  pet,"  and  asking  "  where  she 
stole  those  bright,  naughty  eyes !  " 

A  smothered  laugh  from  John  Jr.  and  a  certain  low 
nasal  sound  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  producing  when 


MR.  AND  MRS.  GRAHAM.  125 

desirous  of  reminding  his  sister  of  her  nose,  made  the 
"  bright,  naughty  eyes  "  flash  so  angrily,  that  even  Dur- 
ward  noticed  it,  and  wondered  if  'Lena's  temper  had  not 
been  transferred  to  her  cousin. 


"That  young  girl — 'Lena,  I  think  you  call  her — is  a  rela 
tive  of  yours,"  said  Mrs.  Graham  to  Carrie,  as  they  were 
ascending  the  stairs. 

"  Ye-es,  our  cousin,  I  suppose,"  answered  Carrie. 

"  She  bears  a  very  aristocratic  name,  that  of  Rivers — 
does  she  belong  to  a  Virginia  family  ?  " 

Carrie  looked  mysterious  and  answered,  "  I  never  knew 
anything  of  her  father,  and  indeed,!  reckon  no  one  does" — • 
then  after  a  moment  she  added,  "Almost  every  family 
has  some  objectionable  relative,  with  which  they  could 
willingly  dispense." 

"  Very  true,"  returned  Mrs.  Graham.  "  What  a  pity 
we  couldn't  all  have  been  born  in  England.  There,  dear, 
you  can  leave  me  now." 

Accordingly  Carrie  started  for  the  parlor,  meeting  in 
Che  hall  her  mother,  who  was  in  a  sea  of  trouble  concern 
ing  the  dinner.  "  Old  Milly,"  she  said,  "  had  gone  to  bed 
out  of  pure  hatefulness,  pretending  she  had  got  a  collapse, 
at  she  called  H." 

"  Can't  Hagar  do,"  asked  Carrie,  anxious  that  Mrs.  Gra 
ham's  first  dinner  with  them  should  be  in  style. 

"Yes,  but  she  can't  do  everything — somebody  must 
superintend  her,  and  as  for  burning  myself  brown  over  the 
dishes  and  then  coming  to  the  table,  I  won't." 

"Why  not  make  'Lena  go  into  the  kitchen — 't  won't 
hurt  her  to-day  more  than  it  did  yesterday,"  suggested 
Carrie. 


126  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  A  good  idea,"  returned  her  mother,  and  stepping  to 
the  parlor  door  she  called  'Lena  from  a  most  interesting 
conversation  with  Mr.  Graham,  who,  the  moment  his  wife 
was  gone,  had  taken  a  seat  by  her  side,  and  now  seemed 
oblivious  to  all  else  sa\  e  her. 

There  was  a  strange  tenderness  in  the  tones  of  his  voice 
and  in  the  expression  of  his  eyes  as  they  rested  upon  her, 
and  Durward,  who  well  knew  his  mother's  peculiarities, 
felt  glad  that  she  was  not  present,  while  at  the  same  time 
he  wondered  that  his  father  should  appear  so  deeply  in 
terested  in  an  entire  stranger. 

u'Lena,  I  wish  to  speak  with  you,"  said  Mrs.  Living 
stone,  appearing  at  the  door,  and  'Lena,  gracefully  excus 
ing  herself,  left  the  room,  while  Mr.  Graham  commenced 
pacing  the  floor  in  a  slow,  abstracted  manner,  ever  and 
anon  wiping  away  the  beaded  drops  which  stood  thickly 
on  his  forehead. 

Meantime,  'Lena,  having  learned  for  what  she  was 
wanted,  went  without  a  word  to  the  kitchen,  though  her 
proud  nature  rebelled,  and  it  was  with  difficulty  she  could 
force  down  the  bitter  spirit  which  she  felt  rising  within 
her.  Had  her  aunt  or  Carrie  shared  her  labors,  or  had  the 
former  asked  instead  of  commanded  her  to  go,  she  would 
have  done  it  willingly.  But  now  in  quite  a  perturbed 
state  of  mind  she  bent  over  pastry  and  pudding,  scarcely 
knowing  which  was  which,  until  a  pleasant  voice  at  1  er 
side  made  her  start,  and  looking  up  she  saw  Anna,  who 
had  just  returned  from  her  walk,  and  who  on  learning 
how  matters  stood,  declared  her  intention  of  helping  too. 

"  If  there's  anything  I  like,  it's  being  in  a  muss,"  said 
Bhe,  and  throwing  aside  her  leghorn  flat,  pinning  up  her 
sleeves,  and  fastening  back  her  curls  in  imitation  of  'Lena, 
phe  was  soon  up  to  her  elbows  in  cooking — her  dress  lit 
erally  covered  with  flour,  eggs,  aud  cream,  and  her  face  as 


MR.  AXD  MRS.  GRAHAM.  127 

red  as  the  currant  jelly  which  Hagar  brought  from  the 
china  closet.  "  There's  a  pie  fit  for  a  queen  or  Lady  Gra 
ham  either,"  said  she,  depositing  in  the  huge  oven  her  first 
attempt  in  the  pie  line. 

But  alas !  Malcolm  Everett's  words  of  love  spoken  be 
neath  the  wide-spreading  sycamore  were  still  ringing  in 
Anna's  ears,  so  't  was  no  wonder  she  salted  the  custard 
instead  of  sweetening  it.  But  no  one  noticed  the  mistake, 
and  when  the  pie  was  done,  both  'Lena  and  Hagar  praised 
its  white,  uncurdled  appearance. 

"  Now  we  shall  just  have  time  to  change  our  dresses," 
said  Anna,  when  everything  pertaining  to  the  dinner  was 
in  readiness,  but  'Lena,  knowing  how  flushed  and  heated 
she  was,  and  remembering  Durward's  distaste  of  high 
colors,  announced  her  determination  of  not  appearing  at 
the  table. 

"  I  shall  see  that  grandma  is  nicely  dressed,"  said  she, 
"  and  you  must  look  after  her  a  little,  for  I  shall  not  come 
down. 

So  saying  she  ran  up  to  her  room,  where  she  found  Mrs. 
Nichols  in  a  great  state  of  fermentation  to  know  "  who 
was  below,  and  what  the  doin's  was.  I  should  of  gone 
down,"  said  she,  "but  I  know'd  'Tilda  would  be  madder'n 
a  hornet." 

'Lena  commended  her  discretion  in  remaining  where 
she  was,  and  then  informing  her  that  Mr.  Bellmont's 
father  and  mother  were  there,  she  proceeded  to  make 
some  alterations  in  her  dress.  The  handsome  black  silk 
and  neat  lace  cap,  both  the  Christmas  gift  of  John  Jr., 
were  donned,  and  then,  staff  in  hand,  the  old  lady  started 
for  the  dining-room,  'Lena  giving  her  numerous  charged 
*»ot  to  talk  much,  and  on  no  account  to  mention  her  & 
-  orite  topic — Nancy  Scovandyke  ! 

"  Nancy's  as  good  any  day  as  Miss  Graham,  if  she  did 


128  'LENA  RIVERS. 

many  a  live  lord,"  was  grandma's  mental  comment,  as 
the  last  mentioned  lady,  rustling  in  a  heavy  brocade  and 
loaded  down  with  jewelry,  took  her  place  at  the  table. 

Purposely,  Mrs.  Livingstone  omitted  an  introduction, 
which  her  husband,  through  fear  of  her,  perhaps,  failed 
to  give.  But  not  so  with  John  Ji\  To  be  sure,  he 
cared  not  a  fig,  on  his  grandmother's  account,  whether 
she  were  introduced  or  not,  for  he  well  knew  she 
would  not  hesitate  to  make  their  acquaintance ;  but  know 
ing  how  it  would  annoy  his  mother  and  Carrie,  he  called 
out,  in  a  loud  tone,  "  My  grandmother,  Mrs.  Nichols — 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham." 

Mr.  Graham  started  so  quickly  that  his  wife  asked  "  if 
anything  stung  him." 

"  Yes — no,"  said  he,  at  the  same  time  indicating  that 
'twas  not  worth  while  to  mind  it. 

"  Got  stung,  have  you  ?"  said  Mrs.  Nichols.  "  Mebby 
'twas  a  bumble-bee— seems  'sef  I  smelt  one;  but  like 
enough  it's  the  scent  on  Car'line's  handkercher." 

Mrs.  Graham  frowned  majestically,  but  it  was  entirely 
lost  on  grandma,  who,  after  a  time,  forgetful  of  'Lena's 
caution,  said,  "  I  b'lieve  they  say  you're  from  Virginny  ! " 

"  Yes,  madam,  Virginia  is  my  native  state,"  returned 
Mrs.  Graham,  clipping  off  each  word  as  if  it  were  burning 
her  tongue. 

"Anywheres  near  Richmond?  "  continued  Mrs.  Nichols. 

"  I  was  born  in  Richmond,  madam." 

"  Law,  now !  who  knows  but  you're  well  acquainted 
with  Nancy  Scovandyke's  kin." 

Mrs.  Graham  turned  as  red  as  the  cranberry  sauce  up- 
on  her  plate,  as  she  replied,  "  I've  not  the  honor  of  know 
ing  either  Miss  Scovandyke  or  any  of  her  relatives." 

"  Wall,  she's  a  smart,  likely  gal,  or  woman  I  s'pose  you'd 
call  her,  bein'  she's  just  the  age  of  my  son." 


MR.  AKD  MRS.  GRAHAM.  129 

Here  Mrs.  Nichols,  suddenly  remembering  'Lena's 
charge,  stopped,  but  John  Jr.,  who  loved  to  see  the  fun 
go  on,  started  her  again,  by  asking  what  relatives  Miss 
Scovandyke  had  in  Virginia. 

"  'Leny  told  me  not  to  mention  Nancy,  but  bein'  you've 
asked  a  civil  question,  'tain't  more'n  fair  for  me  to  answer 
it.  Better'n  forty  year  ago  Nancy's  mother's  aunt — " 

"Which  would  be  Miss  Nancy's  great-aunt,"  inter 
rupted  John  Jr. 

"  Bless  the  boy,"  returned  the  old  lady,  "  he's  got  the 
Nichols'  head  for  figgerin'.  Yes,  Nancy's  great-aunt, 
though  she  was  six  years'and  two  months  younger'n  Nan 
cy's  mother.  Wall,  as  I  was  sayin',  she  went  off  to  Vir- 
ginny  to  teach  music.  She  was  prouder'n  Lucifer,  and 
after  a  spell  she  married  a  southerner,  rich  as  a  Jew,  and 
then  she  never  took  no  more  notice  of  her  folks  to  hum, 
than  's  ef  they  hadn't  been.  But  the  poor  critter  didn't 
live  long  to  enjoy  it,  for  when  her  first  baby  was  born, 
she  died.  'Twas  a  little  girl,  but  her  folks  in  Massachu 
setts  have  never  heard  a  word  whether  she's  dead  or 
alive.  Joel  Slocum,  that's  Nancy's  nephew,  says  he 
means  to  go  down  there  some  day,  and  look  her  up,  but 
I  wouldn't  bother  with  'em,  for  that  side  of  the  house  al 
ways  did  feel  big,  and  above  Nancy's  folks,  thinkin'  Nan 
cy's  mother  married  beneath  her." 

Mrs.  Graham  must  have  enjoyed  her  dinner  very  much, 
for  during  grandma's  recital  she  applied  herself  assiduously 
to  her  plate,  never  once  looking  up,  while  her  face  and 
neck  were  literally  spotted,  either  with  heat,  excitement, 
or  anger.  These  spots  at  last  attracted  Mrs.  Nichols'  at 
tention,  causing  her  to  ask  the  lady  "  if  she  warn't  pes 
tered  with  erysipelas." 

"  I  am  not  aware  of  it,  madam,"  answered  Mrs.  Gra* 
uam;  and  grandma  replied,  "It  looks  mighty  like  it  to 
F*  9 


1.30  'LENA  RIVERS. 

me,  and  I've  seen  a  good  deal  on't,  for  Nancy  Scovan- 
dyke  has  allers  had  it  more  or  less.  Now  I  think  on't," 
she  continued,  as  if  bent  on  tormenting  her  companion, 
"now  I  think  on't,  you  look  quite  a  considerable  liko 
Nancy — the  same  forehead  and  complexion — only  she's  a 
head  taller.  Hain't  you  noticed  it,  John  ?  " 

"  No,  I  have  not,"  answered  John,  at  the  same  time 
proposing  a  change  in  the  conversation,  as  he  presumed 
"they  had  all  heard  enough  of  -Nancy  Sco Vandyke." 

At  this  moment  the  dessert  appeared,  and  with  it  Anna's 
pie.  John  Jr.  was  the  first  to  taste  it,  and  with  an  ex 
pression  of  disgust  he  exclaimed,  "  Horror,  mother,  who 
made  this  pie  ?  " 

Mrs.  Livingstone  needed  but  one  glance  at  her  guests 
to  know  that  something  was  wrong,  and  darting  an  angry 
frown  at  Hagar,  who  was  busy  at  a  side-table,  she  won 
dered  "  if  there  ever  was  any  one  who  had  so  much 
trouble  with  servants  as  herself." 

Anna  saw  the  gathering  storm,  and  knowing  full  well 
that  it  would  burst  on  poor  Hagar's  head,  spoke  out, 
"  Hagar  is  not  in  the  fault,  mother — no  one  but  myself  is 
to  blame.  Tmade  the  pie,  and  must  have  put  in  salt  in 
stead  of  sugar." 

" "  You  made  the  pie ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Livingston  angrily. 
"  What  business  had  you  hi  the  kitchen  ?  Pity  we  hadn't 
a  few  more  servants,  for  then  we  should  all  be  obliged  to 
turn  drudges." 

Anna  was  about  to  reply,  when  John  Jr.  prevented  her, 
by  asking,  "  if  it  hurt  his  sister  to  be  in  the  kitchen  any 
more  than  it  did  'Lena,  who,"  he  said,  "  worked  there 
both  yesterday  and  to-day,  burning  herself  until  she  is 
ashamed  to  appear  at  the  table." 

Mortified  beyond  measure  at  what  had  occurred,  Mrs. 
Livingstone  hastened  to  explain  that  her  servants  were 


MR.  A£D  MRS.  GRAHAM.  131 

nearly  all  sick,  and  that  in  her  dilemma,  'Lena  had  volun 
teered  her  services,  adding  by  way  of  compliment,  un 
doubtedly,  that  "  her  niece  seemed  peculiarly  adapted  to 
such  work — indeed,  that  her  forte  lay  among  pots  and 
kettles." 

An  expression  of  scorn,  unusual  to  Mr.  Graham,  passed 
over  his  face,  and  in  a  sarcastic  tone  he  asked  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  "  if  she  thought  it  detracted  from  a  young  la 
dy's  worth,  to  be  skilled  in  whatever  pertained  to  the  do 
mestic  affairs  of  a  family." 

Ready  to  turn  whichever  way  the  wind  did,  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone  replied,  "Not  at  all — not  at  all.  I  mean  that  my 
daughters  shall  learn  everything,  so  that  their  husbands 
will  find  in  them  every  necessary  qualification." 

"  Then  you  confidently  expect  them  to  catch  husbands 
sometime  or  other,"  said  John  Jr.,  whereupon  Carrie 
blushed,  and  looked  very  interesting,  while  Anna  retort 
ed,  "  Of  course  we  shall.  I  wouldn't  be  an  old  maid  for 
the  world — I'd  run  away  first ! " 

And  amidst  the  laughter  which  this  speech  called  forth, 
the  company  retired  from  the  table.  For  some  time  past, 
Mrs.  Nichols  had  walked  with  a  cane,  limping  even  then. 
Observing  this,  Mr.  Graham,  with  his  usual  gallantry, 
offered  her  his  arm,  which  she  willingly  accepted,  casting 
a  look  of  triumph  upon  her  daughter-in-law,  who  appa 
rently  was  not  so  well  pleased.  So  thorough  had  been 
grandma's  training,  that  she  did  not  often  venture  into 
the  parlor  without  a  special  invitation  from  its  mistress, 
but  on  this  occasion,  Mr.  Graham  led  her  hi  there  as  a 
matter  of  course,  and  placing  her  upon  the  sofa,  seated 
himself  by  her  side,  and  commenced  questioning  her  con 
cerning  her  former  home  and  history.  Never  in  her  life 
had  Mrs.  Nichols  felt  more  communicative,  and  never  be 
fore  had  she  so  attentive 'a  listener.  Particularly  did  he 


132  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Lang  upon  every  word,  when  she  told  him  of  her  Helena, 
of  her  exceeding  beauty,  her  untimely  death,  and  rascally 
husband. 

"  Rivers — Rivers,"  said  lie,  "  what  kind  of  a  looking 
man  was  he  ?  " 

"  The  Lord  only  knows — I  never  see  him,"  returned 
Mrs.  Nichols.  "  But  this  much  I  do  know,  he  was  one 
scandalous  villain,  and  if  an  old  woman's  curses  can  do 
him  any  harm,  he's  had  mine  a  plenty  of  times." 

"  You  do  wrong  to  talk  so,"  said  Mr.  Graham,  "  for 
who  knows  how  bitterly  he  may  have  repented  of  the 
great  wrong  done  to  your  daughter." 

"  Then  why  in  the  name  of  common  sense  don't  he 
hunt  up  her  child,  and  own  her — he  needn't  be  ashamed 
of  'Leny." 

"Very  true,"  answered  Mr.  Graham.  "No  one  need 
be  ashamed  of  her.  I  should  be  proud  to  call  her  my 
daughter.  But  as  I  was  saying,  perhaps  this  Rivers  has 
married  a  second  time,  keeping  his  first  marriage  a  secret 
from  his  wife,  who  is  so  proud  and  high-spirited  that  now, 
after  the  lapse  of  years,  he  dares  not  tell  her  for  fear  of 
what  might  follow." 

"Then  she's  a  good-for-nothing,  stuck-up  thing,  and 
he's  a  cowardly  puppy  !  That's  my  opinion  on  'em,  and 
I'll  tell  'em  so,  if  ever  I  see  'em !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Nich 
ols,  her  wrath  waxing  warmer  and  warmer  toward  the 
destroyer  of  her  daughter. 

Pausing  for  breath,  she  helped  herself  to  a  pinch  of  her 
favorite  Maccaboy,  and  then  passed  it  to  Mr.  Graham, 
who,  to  her  astonishment,  took  some,  slily  casting  it  aside 
when  she  did  not  see  him.  This  emboldened  the  old 
lady  to  offer  it  to  Mrs.  Graham,  who,  languidly  reclining 
upon  the  end  of  the  sofa,  sat  talking  to  Carrie,  who,  on  a 
low  stool  at  her  feet,  was  looking  up  into  her  face  as  if  in 


MR.  AND  MRS.   GRAHAM.  133 

perfect  admiration.  Without  deigning  other  reply  than 
a  haughty  shake  of  the  head,  Mrs.  Graham  cast  a  depre 
cating  glance  toward  Carrie,  who  muttered,  "  How  dis 
gusting  I  But  for  pa's  sake  we  tolerate  it." 

Here  'Lena  entered  the  parlor,  very  neatly  dressed,  and 
looking  fresh  and  blooming  as  a  rose.  There  was  no  va 
cant  seat  near  except  one  between  Durward  and  John 
Jr.,  which,  at  the  invitation  of  the  latter,  she  accepted.  A 
peculiar  smile  flitted  over  Carrie's  face,  which  was  noticed 
by  Mrs.  Graham,  and  attributed  to  the  right  cause.  Ere 
long  Durward,  John  Jr.,  'Lena,  and  Anna,  who  had  joined 
them,  left  the  house,  and  from  the  window  Carrie  saw 
that  they  were  amusing  themselves  by  playing  "Graces."' 
Gradually  the  sound  of  their  voices  increased,  and  as 
'Lena's  clear,  musical  laugh  rang  out  above  the  rest,  Mrs. 
Graham  and  Carrie  looked  out  just  in  time  to  see  Dur 
ward  holding  the  struggling  girl,  while  John  Jr.  claimed 
the  reward  of  his  having  thrown  the  "  grace  hoop  "  upon 
her  head. 

Inexpressibly  shocked,  the  precise  Mrs.  Graham  asked, 
u  What  kind  of  a  girl  is  your  cousin ;  "  to  which  Carrie 
replied,  "  You  have  a  fair  sample  of  her,"  at  the  samo 
time  nodding  toward  'Lena,  who  was  unmercifully  pull 
ing  John  Jr's  ears  as  a  reward  for  his  presumption. 

"Rather  hoydeuish,  I  should  think,"  returned  Mrs. 
Graham,  secretly  hoping  Durward  would  not  become  en 
amored  of  her. 

At  length  the  party  left  the  yard,  and  repairing  to  the 
garden,  sat  down  in  one  of  the  arbor  bridges,  where  they 
were  joined  by  Malcolm  Everett,  who  naturally,  and  as 
a  matter  of  course,  appropriated  Anna  to  himself.  Dur- 
ward  observed  this,  and  when  he  saw  them  walk  away 
together,  while  'Lena  appeared  wholly  unconcerned,  he 
began  to  think  that  possibly  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  raista 


UH  'LENA  RIVERS.        W 

ken  when  she  hinted  of  an  engagement  between  her  niece 
and  Mr.  Everett.  Knowing  John  Jr.'s  straight-forward 
way  of  speaking,  he  determined  to  sound  him,  so  he  said, 
"  Tour  sister  and  Mr.  Everett  evidently  prefer  each  oth 
er's  society  to  ours." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  answered  John.  "I  saw  that  years  ago, 
when  Anna  wasn't  knee-high  ;  and  I'm  glad  of  it,  for  Ev 
erett  is  a  mighty  fine  fellow." 

'Lena,  too,  united  in  praising  her  teacher,  until  Dur 
ward  felt  certain  that  she  had  never  entertained  for  him 
any  feeling  stronger  than  that  of  friendship ;  and  as  to 
her  flirting  seriously  with  Captain  Atherton,  the  idea  was 
too  preposterous  to  be  harbored  for  a  single  moment. 
Once  exonerated  from  these  charges,  it  was  strange  how 
fast  'Lena  rose  in  his  estimation,  and  when  John  Jr.,  with 
a  loud  yawn,  asked  if  they  did  not  wish  he  would  leave 
them  alone,  more  in  earnest  than  in  fun  Durward  replied, 
"  Tes,  yes,  do." 

"  I  reckon  I  will,"  said  John,  shaking  down  his  tight 
pants,  and  pulling  at  his  long  coat  sleeves.  "I  never 
want  anybody  round  when  I'm  with  Nellie  Douglass." 

So  saying,  he  walked  off,  leaving  Durward  and  'Lena 
alone.  That  neither  of  them  felt  at  all  sorry,  was  proved 
by  the  length  of  time  which  they  remained  together,  for 
when  more  than  an  hour  afterward  Mrs.  Graham  proposed 
to  Carrie  to  take  a  turn  in  the  garden,  she  found  the 
young  couple  still  in  the  arbor,  so  wholly  engrossed 
that  they  neither  saw  nor  heard  her  until  she  stood  be 
fore  them. 

'Lena  was  an  excellent  horseman,  and  Durward  had 
just  proposed  a  ride  early  the  next  morning,  when  his 
mother,  forcing  down  her  wrath,  laid  her  hand  on  his 
shoulder,  and  as  if  the  proposition  had  come  from  'Lena  in 
stead  of  her  son,  she  said, "  No,  no,  Miss  Rivers,  Durward 


MR.  AND  MRS.  GRAHAM.  155 

can't  go — he  lias  got  to  drive  me  over  to  Woodlawn,  to 
gether  with  Carrie  and  Anna,  whom  I  have  asked  to  ac 
company  me ;  so  you  see  'twill  be  impossible  for  him  to 
ride  with  you." 

"Unless  she  goes  with  us,"  interrupted  Durward. 
"  You  would  like  to  visit  Woodlawn,  would  you  not, 
Miss  Rivers  ?  " 

"  Oh,  very  much,"  was  'Lena's  reply,  while  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  continued,  "  I  am  sorry  I  cannot  extend  my  invita 
tion  to  Miss  Rivers,  but  our  carriage  will  be  full,  and  I 
cannot  endure  to  be  crowded." 

"  It  has  carried  six  many  a  time,"  said  Durward,  "  and 
if  she  will  go,  I  will  take  you  on  my  lap,  or  any  where." 

Of  course  'Lena  declined — he  knew  she  would — and 
determined  not  to  be  outwitted  by  his  mother,  whose  aim 
he  saw,  he  continued,  "  I  shan't  release  you  from  your 
engagement  to  ride  with  me.  We  will  start  early  and 
get  back  before  mother  is  up,  so  our  excursion  will  in  no 
way  interfere  with  my  driving  her  to  Woodlawn  after 
breakfast." 

Mrs.  Graham  was  too  polite  to  raise  any  further  ob 
jection,  but  resolving  not  to  leave  them  to  finish  their 
tete-a-tete,  she  threw  herself  upon  one  of  the  seats,  and 
commenced  talking  to  her  son,  while  Carrie,  burning 
with  jealousy  and  vexation,  started  for  the  house,  where 
she  laid  her  grievances  before  her  mother,  who,  equally 
enraged,  declared  her  intention  of  "  hereafter  watching 
the  vixen  pretty  closely." 

"  And  she's  going  to  ride  with  him  to-morrow  morn 
ing,  you  say.  Well,  I  fancy  I  can  urevent  that." 

"  How  ?  "  asked  Carrie,  eagerly,  and  her  mother  re« 
plied,  "  You  know  she  always  rides  Fleetfoot,  which  now, 
with  the  other  horses,  is  hi  the  Grattan  woods,  two  miles 
away.  Of  course  she'll  order  Caesar  to  bring  him  up  to 


130  'LENA  RIVERS. 

the  stable,  but  I  shall  countermand  that  order,  bidding 
him  say  nothing  to  her  about  it.  He  dare  not  disobey 
me,  and  when  in  the  morning  she  asks  for  the  pony,  he  can 
tell  her  just  how  it  is." 

"  Capital !  capital !  "  exclaimed  Carrie,  never  suspecting 
that  there  had  been  a  listener,  even  John  Jr.,  who  all  the 
while  was  sitting  in  the  back  parlor. 

"  Whew !  "  thought  the  young  man.  "  Plotting,  are 
they?  Well,  I'll  see  how  good  I  am  at  counterplotting." 

So,  slipping  quietly  out  of  the  house,  he  went  in  quest 
of  his  servant,  Bill,  telling  him  to  go  after  Fleetfoot,  whom 
lie  was  to  put  in  the  lower  stable  instead  of  the  one  where 
she  was  usually  kept ;  "  and  then  in  the  morning,  long 
before  the  sun  is  up,"  said  he,  "  do  you  have  her  at  the 
door  for  one  of  the  young  ladies  to  ride." 

"  Yes,  marster,"  answered  Bill,  looking  around  for  his 
old  straw  hat. 

"  Now,  see  how  quick  you  can  go,"  John  Jr.  continued, 
adding  as  an  incentive  to  haste,  that  if  Bill  would  get  the 
pony  stabled  before  old  Caesar,  who  had  gone  to  Ver 
sailles,  should  return,  he  would  give  him  ten  cents. 

Bill  needed  no  other  inducement  than  the  promise  of 
money,  and  without  stopping  to  find  his  hat,  he  started 
off  bare-headed,  upon  the  run,  returning  in  the  course  of 
an  hour  and  claiming  his  reward,  as  Ca3sar  had  not  yet 
got  home. 

"All  right,"  said  John  Jr.,  tossing  him  the  silver. 
"  And  now  remember  to  keep  your  tongue  between  your 
teeth." 

Bill  had  kept  too  many  secrets  for  his  young  master 
to  think  of  tattling  about  something  which  to  him  seemed 
of  no  consequence  whatever,  and  he  walked  off,  eyeing 
his  dime,  and  wishing  he  could  earn  one  so  easily  every 
day. 


MR.  AND  MRS.  GRAHAM.  137 

Meantime  John  Jr.  sought  out  'Lena,  to  whom  he  said, 
"  And  so  you  are  going  to  ride  to-morrow  morning  ?  " 

"  How  did  you  know  ?  "  she  asked,  and  John,  looking 
very  wise,  replied,  that  "  little  girls  should  not  ask  too 
many  questions,"  adding,  that  as  he  supposed  she  would 
of  course  want  Fleetfoot,  he  had  ordered  Bill  to  have  her 
at  the  door  early  in  the  morning. 

"  Much  obliged,"  answered  'Lena.  "  I  was  about  giv 
ing  it  up  when  I  heard  the  pony  was  in  the  Grattan  woods, 
for  Caesar  is  so  cross  I  hated  to  ask  him  to  go  for  her;  but 
now  I'll  say  nothing  to  him  about  it." 

That  night  when  Caesar  was  eating  his  supper  in  the 
kitchen,  his  mistress  suddenly  appeared,  asking  "  if  he  had 
received  any  orders  to  go  for  Fleetfoot." 

The  old  negro,  who  was  naturally  cross,  began  to  scowl. 
"  No,  miss,  and  Lord  knows  I  don't  want  to  tote  clar  oif 
to  the  Grattan  woods  to-night." 

"  You  needn't,  either,  and  if  any  one  tells  you  to  go, 
don't  you  do  it,"  returned  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Somebody's  playin'  possum,  that's  sartin,"  thought 
Bill,  who  was  present,  and  began  putting  things  together. 
"  Somebody's  playin'  possum,  but  they  don't  catch  this 
child  leakin'." 

"  Have  you  told  him  ?  "  whispered  Carrie,  meeting  her 
mother  in  the  hall. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  nodded,  adding  in  an  undertone,  that 
"  she  presumed  the  ride  was  given  up,  as  'Lena  had  said 
nothing  to  Caesar  about  the  pony." 

With  her  mind  thus  at  ease,  Carrie  returned  to  tLe 
parlor,  where  she  commenced  talking  to  Mrs.  Graham  of 
their  projected  visit  to  Wbodlawn,  dwelling  upon  it  as  if 
it  had  been  a  tour  to  Europe,  and  evidently  exulting 
'Lena  was  to  be  left  behind. 


138  'LENA  RIVERS 


CHAPTER  XL 

WOODLAWN. 

NEXT  morning,  long  before  the  sun  appeared  above  the 
eastern  horizon,  Fleetfoot,  attended  by  Bill,  stood  before 
the  door,  saddled  and  waiting  for  its  young  rider,  while 
near  by  it  was  Firelock,  which  Durward  had  borrowed 
of  John  Jr.  At  last  'Lena  appeared,  and  if  Durward  had 
admired  her  beauty  before,  his  admiration  was  now  greatly 
increased  when  he  saw  how  well  she  looked  in  her  neatly 
fitting  riding  dress  and  tasteful  straw  hat.  After  bidding 
her  good  morning,  he  advanced  to  assist  her  in  mounting, 
but  declining  his  offer,  she  with  one  bound  sprang  into 
the  saddle. 

"Jumps  like  a  toad,"  said  Bill.  "Ain't  stiff  and 
clumsy  like  Miss  Carrie',  who  allus  has  to  be  done  sot 
on." 

At  a  word  from  Durward  they  galloped  briskly  away, 
the  clatter  of  their  horses'  hoofs  arousing  and  bringing 
to  the  window  Mrs.  Graham,  who  had  a  suspicion  of 
what  was  going  on.  Pushing  aside  the  silken  curtain,  she 
looked  uneasily  after  them,  wondering  if  in  reality  her 
son  cared  aught  for  the  graceful  creature  at  his  side,  and 
thinking  if  he  did,  how  hard  she  would  labor  to  overcome 
his  liking.  Mrs.  Graham  was  not  the  only  one  Avho 
watched  them,  for  fearing  lest  Bill  should  not  awake, 
John  Jr.  had  foregone  his  morning  nap,  himself  calling  up 
the  negro,  and  now  from  his  window  he,  too,  looked  after 
them  until  they  entered  upon  the  turnpike  and  were  lost 
to  view.  Then,  with  sonic  very  complimentary  voflwc- 


WOODLAWlir.  139 

tions  upon  Lena's  riding,  he  returned  to  his  pillow,  think 
ing  to  himself,  "  There's  a  girl  worth  having.  By  Jove, 
if  I'd  never  seen  Nellie  Douglass,  and  'Lena  wasn't  iny 
cousin,  wouldn't  I  keep  mother  in  the  hysterics  most  of 
the  time !  " 

On  reaching  the  turnpike,  Durward  halted,  while  he 
asked  'Lena  "  where  she  wished  to  go." 

"  Anywhere  you  please,"  said  she,  when,  for  reasons  of 
his  own,  he  proposed  that  they  should  ride  over  tc 
Woodlawn. 

'Lena  was  certainly  excusable  if  she  felt  a  secret  feeling 
of  satisfaction  in  thinking  she  was  after  all  the  fir^t  of  the 
family  to  visit  Woodlawn,  of  which  she  had  heard  so  much, 
that  it  seemed  like  a  perfect  Eldorado.  It  was  a  grand 
old  building,  standing  on  a  cross  road  about  three  miles 
from  the  turnpike,  and  commanding  quite  an  extensive 
view  of  the  country  around.  It  was  formerly  owned  by 
a  wealthy  Englishman,  who  spent  his  winters  in  New  Or 
leans  and  his  summers  in  the  country.  The  year  before 
he  had  died  insolvent,  Woodlawn  falling  into  the  hands 
of  his  creditors,  who  now  offered  it  for  sale,  together  with 
the  gorgeous  furniture  which  still  remained  just  as  the 
family  had  left  it.  To  the  left  of  the  building  was  a  large, 
handsome  park,  in  which  the  former  owner  had  kept  a 
number  of  deer,  and  now  as  Durward  and  'Lena  rode  up 
and  down  the  shaded  avenues,  these  graceful  creatures 
would  occasionally  spring  up  and  bound  away  with  the 
fleetncss  of  the  wind. 

The  garden  and  yard  in  front  were  laid  out  with  perfect 
taste,  the  former  combining  both  the  useful  and  the 
agreeable.  A  luxurious  grape-vine  wreathed  itself  over 
the  arched  entrance,  while  the  wide,  graveled  walks  were 
bordered,  some  with  box,  and  others  with  choice  flowers, 
now  choked  and  overgrown  with  weeds,  but  showing 


140  'LENA  RIVERS. 

marks  of  great  beauty,  when  properly  tended  and  cared 
for.  At  the  extremity  of  the  principal  walk,  which  ex 
tended  the  entire  length  of  the  garden,  was  a  summer- 
house,  fitted  up  with  everything  which  could  make  it  at 
tractive,  during  the  sultry  heat  of  summer,  while  farther 
on  through  the  little  gate  was  a  handsome  grove  or  con 
tinuation  of  the  park,  with  many  well-beaten  paths  wind 
ing  through  it  and  terminating  finally  at  the  side  of  a  tiny 
sheet  of  water,  which  within  a  few  years  had  forced  itself 
through  the  limestone  soil  natural  to  Kentucky. 

Owing  to  some  old  feud,  the  English  family  had  not 
been  on  visiting  terms  with  the  Livingstones ;  consequent 
ly,  'Lena  had  never  before  been  at  Woodlawn,  and  her  ad 
miration  increased  with  every  step,  and  when  at  last  they 
entered  the  house  and  stood  within  the  elegant  drawing- 
rooms,  it  knew  no  bounds.  She  remembered  the  time 
when  she  had  thought  her  uncle's  furniture  splendid  be 
yond  anything  in  the  world,  but  it  could  not  compare 
with  the  magnificence  around  her,  and  for  a  few  momenta 
she  stood  as  if  transfixed  with  astonishment.  Durward 
had  been  highly  amused  at  her  enthusiastic  remarks  con 
cerning  the  grounds,  and  now  noticing  her  silence,  he 
asked  "  what  was  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Oh,  I  am  half-afraid  to  speak,  lest  this  beautiful  room 
should  prove  an  illusion  and  fade  away,"  said  she. 

"  Is  it  then  so  much  more  beautiful  than  anything  you 
ever  saw  before  ?  "  he  asked ;  and  she  replied,  "  Oh,  yes, 
far  more  so,"  at  the  same  time  giving  him  a  laughable  de 
scription  of  her  amazement  when  she  first  saw  the  insido 
of  her  uncle's  house,  and  ending  by  saying,  "  But  you  can 
imagine  it  all,  for  you  saw  me  in  the  cars,  and  can  judge 
pretty  well  what  were  my  ideas  of  the  world." 

Wishing  to  see  if  'Lena  would  attempt  to  conceal  her 
former  humble  mode  of  living,  Durward  said,  "I  iuivw 


WOODLAWff.  Ill 

never  heard  anything  concerning  your  eastern  home  and 
how  you  lived  there — will  you  please  to  tell  me  ?  " 

"  There's  nothing  to  tell  which  will  interest  you,"  an 
ewered  'Lena ;  but  Durward  thought  there  was,  and  lead 
ing  her  to  a  sofa,  he  bade  her  commence. 

Durward  had  a  peculiar  way  of  making  people  do  what 
he  pleased,  and  now  at  his  bidding  'Lena  told  him  of  her 
mountain-home,  with  its  low-roof,  bare  walls,  and  oaken 
floors — of  herself,  when,  a  bare-footed  little  girl,  she  picked 
huckleberries  with  Joel  Slocum  !  And  then,  in  lower  and 
more  subdued  tones,  she  spoke  of  her  mother's  grave  in 
the  valley,  near  which  her  beloved  grandfather — the  only 
father  she  had  ever  known — was  now  sleeping.  'Lena 
never  spoke  of  her  grandfather  without  weeping.  She 
could  not  help  it.  Her  tears  came  naturally,  as  they  did 
when  first  they  told  her  he  was  dead,  and  now  laying  her 
head  upon  the  arm  of  the  sofa,  she  sobbed  like  a  child. 

Durward's  sympathies  were  all  enlisted,  and  without 
stopping  to  consider  the  propriety  or  impropriety  of  the 
act,  he  drew  her  gently  toward  him,  trying  to  soothe  her 
grief,  calling  her  ">Lena,  and  smoothing  back  the  curls 
which  had  fallen  over  her  face.  As  soon  as  possible,  'Lena 
released  herself  from  him,  and  drying  her  tears,  proposed 
that  they  should  go  over  the  house,  as  it  was  nearly  time 
for  them  to  return  home.  Accordingly,  they  passed  on 
through  room  after  room,  'Lena's  quick  eye  taking  in  and 
appreciating  everything  which  she  saw,  while  Durward 
was  no  less  lost  in  admiration  of  her,  for  speaking  of  her- 
self  so  frankly  as  she  had  done.  Many  young  ladies,  he 
well  knew,  would  shrink  from  acknowledging  that  their 
home  was  once  in  a  brown,  old-fashioned  house  amono- 
wild  and  rugged  mountains,  and  'Lena's  truthfulness  ID 
speaking  not  only  of  this,  but  many  similar  things  cSn- 
aected  with  her  early  history,  inspired  him  with  a  respect 


112  LENA  RIVEIib. 

for  her  which  he  had  never  before  felt  for  any  young  lady 
of  his  acquaintance. 

But  little  was  said  by  either  of  them  as  they  went  over 
the  house,  until  Durward,  prompted  by  something  he 
could  not  resist,  suddenly  asked  his  companion  "  how  she 
would  like  to  be  mistress  of  Woodlawn  ?  " 

Had  it  been  Carrie  to  whom  this  question  was  put,  sho 
would  have  blushed  and  simpered,  expecting  nothing  short 
of  an  immediate  offer,  but  'Lena  quickly  replied,  "  Not  at 
all,"  laughingly  giving  as  an  insuperable  objection,  "  the 
size  of  the  house  and  the  number  of  windows  she  would 
have  to  wash  !  " 

With  a  loud  laugh  Durward  proposed  that  they  should 
now  return  home,  and  again  mounting  their  horses,  they 
started  for  Maple  Grove,  which  they  reached  just  after 
the  family  had  finished  breakfast.  With  the  first  ring  of 
the  bell,  John  Jr.,  eager  not  to  lose  an  iota  of  what  might 
occur,  was  at  the  table,  arid  when  his  mother  and  Carrie, 
anxious  at  the  non-appearance  of  Durward  and  'Lena,  cast 
wistful  glances  toward  each  other,  he  very  indifferently 
asked  Mrs.  Graham  "  if  her  son  had  returned  from  his 
ride." 

"I've  not  seen  him,"  answered  the  lady,  her  scowl 
deepening  and  her  lower  jaw  dropping  slightly,  as  it  usu 
ally  did  when  she  was  ill  at  ease. 

"  WTio's  gone  to  ride  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Graham ;  and  John 
Jr.  replied  that  Durward  and  'Lena  had  been  riding  near 
ly  two  hours,  adding,  that  "  they  must  find  each  other  ex 
ceedingly  interesting  to  be  gone  so  long." 

This  last  was  for  the  express  benefit  of  his  mother,  whose 
frown  kept  company  with  Mrs.  Graham's  scosvl.  Chop 
ping  her  steak  into  mince-meat,  and  almost  biting  a  piece 
frgm.  her  cup  as  she  sipped  her  coffee,  she  at  last  found 
voice  to  ask,  "  what  horse  'Lena  rode  ! " 


WOODLAWN.  143 

"Fleetfoot,  of  course,"  said  John  Jr.,  at  the  same  time 
telling  his  father  he  thought  "  he  ought  to  give  'Lena  a 
pony  of  her  own,  for  she  was  accounted  the  best  rider  in 
the  county,  and  Fleetfoot  was  getting  old  and  clumsy." 

The  moment  breakfast  was  over,  Mrs.  Livingstone  went 
in  quest  of  Caesar,  whom  she  abused  for  disobeying  her 
orders,  threatening  him  with  the  calaboose,  and  anything 
else  which  came  to  her  mind.  Old  Caesar  was  taken  by 
surprise,  and  being  rather  slow  of  speech,  was  trying  to 
think  of  something  to  say,  when  John  Jr.,  who  had  fol 
lowed  his  mother,  came  to  his  aid,  saying  that  "  he  him 
self  had  sent  Bill  for  Fleetfoot,"  and  adding  aside  to  his 
mother,  that  "  the  next  time  she  and  Cad  were  plotting 
mischief  he'd  advise  them  to  see  who  was  in  the  back 
parlor ! " 

Always  ready  to  suspect  'Lena  of  evil,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
immediately  supposed  it  was  she  who  had  listened ;  but, 
before  she  could  frame  a  reply,  John  Jr.  walked  off,  leav 
ing  her  undecided  whether  to  cowhide  Caesar,  'Lena,  or 
her  son,  the  first  of  whom,  taking  advantage  of  the  pause, 
followed  the  example  of  his  young  master  and  stole  away. 
The  tramp,  of  horses'  feet  was  now  heard,  and  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  mentally  resolving  that  Fleetfoot  should  be  sold, 
repaired  to  the  door  in  time  to  see  Durward  carefully  lift 
'Lena  from  her  pony  and  place  her  upon  the  ground.  Mrs. 
Graham,  Carrie,  and  Annie  were  all  standing  upon  the 
piazza,  and  as  'Lena  came  up  the  walk,  her  eyes  sparkling 
and  her  bright  face  glowing  with  exercise,  Anna  ex 
claimed,  "  Isn't  she  beautiful  ?  "  at  the  same  time  asking 
her  "  where  she  had  been." 

"  To  Woodlawn,"  answered  'Lena. 

"  To  Woodlawn  !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Graham. 

"  To  Woodlawn  !  "    echoed  Mrs.   Livingstone,   whila 


114  'LENA   RIVERS. 

Carrie  brought  up  the  rear  by  exclaiming,  "To  Wood- 
lawn  !  pray  what  took  you  there  ?  " 

"  The  pony,"  answered  'Lena,  as  she  passed  into  the 
house. 

Thinking  it  best  to  put  Mrs.  Graham  on  her  guard, 
Mrs.  Livingstone  said  to  her,  in  a  low  tone,  "  I  would 
advise  you  to  keep  an  eye  upon  your  son,  if  he  is  at  all 
susceptible,  for  there  is  no  bound  to  'Lena's  ambition." 

Mrs.  Graham  made  no  direct  reply,  but  the  flashing  of 
her  little  gray  eye  was  a  sufficient  answer,  and  satisfied 
with  the  result  of  her  caution,  Mrs.  Livingstone  reentered 
the  house.    Two  hours  afterward,  the  carriage  stood  at 
the  door  waiting  to  convey  the  party  to  Woodlawn.     It 
had  been  arranged  that  Mrs.  Graham,  Carrie,  Anna,  and 
Durward  should  ride  in  the  carriage,  while  Mr.  Graham 
went  on  horseback.     Purposely,  Carrie  loitered  behind 
her  companions,  who  being  first,  of  course  took  the  back 
seat,  leaving  her  the  privilege  of  riding  by  the  side  of 
Durward.    This  was  exactly  what  she  wanted,  and  lean 
ing  back  on  her  elbow,  she  complacently  awaited  his  com 
ing.      But  how  was   she  chagrined,  when,  in  his  stead, 
appeared  Mr.  Graham,  who  sprang  into  the  carriage  and 
took  a  seat  beside  her,  saying  to  his  wife's  look  of  inquiry, 
that  as  John  Jr.  had  concluded  to  go,  Durward  preferred 
riding  on  horseback  with  him,  adding,  in  his  usually  po 
lite  way,  "  And  I,  you  know,  would  always  rather  go  with 
the  ladies.     But  where  is  Miss  Rivers?"  he  continued. 
"  Why  isn't  she  here  ?  " 

"  Simply  because   she  wasn't   invited,  I  suppose,"  re 
turned  his  wife,  detecting  the  disappointment  in  his  face. 
"Not  invited!"  he  repeated;  "I  didn't  know  as  this 
trip  was  of  sufficient  consequence  to  need  a  special  invita 
tion.    I  thought,  of  course,  she  was  here—" 


WOODLAWJV.  145 

"  Or  you  would  have  gone  on  horseback,"  suggested 
bis  wife,  ever  ready  to  catch  at  straws. 

Mr.  Graham  saw  the  rising  jealousy  in  time  to  repress 
the  truthful  answer — "  Yes  " — while  he  compromised  the 
matter  by  saying  that  "  the  presence  of  three  fair  ladies 
ought  to  satisfy  him." 

Carrie  was  too  much  disappointed  even  to  smile,  and 
during  all  the  ride  she  was  extremely  taciturn,  hardly 
replying  at  all  to  Mr.  Graham's  lively  sallies,  and  winning 
golden  laurels  in  the  opinion  of  Mrs.  Graham,  who  secretly 
thought  her  husband  altogether  too  agreeable.  As  they 
turned  into  the  long  avenue  which  led  to  Woodlawn,  and 
Carrie  thought  of  the  ride  which  'Lena  had  enjoyed  alone 

with  its  owner — for  such  was  Durward  reported  to  be 

her  heart  swelled  with  bitterness  toward  her  cousin,  in 
whom  she1  saw  a  dreaded  rival.  But  when  they  reached 
the  house,  and  Durward  assisted  her  to  alight,  keeping  at 
her  side  while  they  walked  over  the  grounds,  her  jealousy 
vanished,  and  with  her  sweetest  smile  she  looked  up  into 
his  face,  affecting  a  world  of  childish  simplicity,  and  ma 
king,  as  she  believed,  a  very  favorable  impression. 

"  I  wonder  if  you  are  as  much  pleased  with  Woodlawn 
as  your  cousin,"  said  Durward,  noticing  that  her  mind 
seemed  to  be  more  intent  on  foreign  subjects  than  the 
scenery  around  her. 

"  Oh,  no,  I  dare  say  not,"  returned  Carrie.  "  'Lena 
was  never  accustomed  to  anything  until  she  came  to  Ken 
tucky,  and  now  I  suppose  she  thinks  she  must  go  into 
ecstacies  over  everything,  though  I  sometimes  wish  she 
wouldn't  betray  her  ignorance  quite  so  often." 

"  According  to  her  description,  her  home  in  Massachu- 

setts  was  widely  different   from  her  present  one,"    said 

Durward;  and  Carrie  quickly  replied,  "I  wonder  now  if 

Bhe  bored  you  with  an  account  of  her  former  home  1    You 

^  10 


140  'LENA   RIVERS. 

mast  have   been   edified,  and  had  a   delightful  ride,  I 
declare." 

"  And  I  assure  you  I  never  had  a  pleasanter  one,  for 
Miss  Rivers  is,  I  think,  an  exceedingly  agreeable  com 
panion,"  returned  Durward,  beginning  to  see  the  drift  of 
her  remarks. 

Here  Mr.  Graham  called  to  his  son,  and  excusing  him 
self  from  Carrie,  he  did  not  again  return  to  her  until  it 
was  time  to  go  home.  Meantime,  at  Maple  Grove,  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  in  the  worst  possible  humor,  was  finding  fault 
Avith  poor  'Lena,  accusing  her  of  eaves-dropping,  and  ask 
ing  her  if  she  did  not  begin  to  believe  the  old  adage,  that 
listeners  never  heard  any  good  of  themselves.  In  perfect 
astonishment  'Lena  demanded  what  she  meant,  saying 
she  had  never,  to  her  knowledge,  been  guilty  of  listening. 

Without  any  explanation,  whatever,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
declared  herself  "  satisfied  now,  for  a  person  who  would 
listen  and  then  deny  it,  was  capable  of  almost  anything." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  madam  ?  "  said  'Lena,  her  tem 
per  getting  the  ascendency.  "  Explain  yourself,  ibr  no 
one  shall  accuse  me  of  lying  without  an  attempt  to  prove 
it." 

With  a  sneer  Mrs.  Livingstone  replied,  "  I  wonder  what 
you  can  do  1  Will  you  bring  to  your  assistance  some  one 
of  your  numerous  admirers  ?  " 

"  Admirers  1  What  admirers  ?  "  asked  'Lena,  and  her 
aunt  replied,  "  I'll  give  you  credit  for  feigning  the  best  of 
any  one  I  ever  saw,  but  you  can't  deceive  me.  I  know 
very  well  of  your  intrigues  to  entrap  Mr.  Bellmont.  But 
it  is  not  strange  that  you  should  inherit  something  of 
your  mother's  nature,  and  you  know  what  she  was!" 

This  was  too  much,  and  with  eyes  flashing  fire  through 
the  glittering  tears,  which  shone  like  diamonds,  'Lena 
sprang  to  her  feet,  exclaiming,  "  Yes,  I  do  know  what  slia 


WOODLAWN.  147 

was.  She  was  a  far  more  worthy  woman  than  yon,  and 
if  in  my  presence  you  dare  again  breathe  aught  against  her 
name,  you  shall  rue  it — " 

"  That  she  shall,  so  help  me  heaven,"  murmured  a  voice 
near,  which  neither  Mrs.  Livingstone  nor  'Lena  heard,  noi 
were  they  aware  of  any  one's  presence  until  Mr.  Graham 
suddenly  appeared  in  the  doorway. 

At  his  wife's  request  he  had  exchanged  places  with  his 
son,  and  riding  on  before  the  rest,  had  reached  home  first, 
being  just  in  time  to  overhear  the  last  part  of  the  conver 
sation  between  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  'Lena.  Instantly 
changing  her  manner,  Mrs.  Livingstone  motioned  her 
niece  from  the  room,  heaving  a  deep  sigh  as  the  door 
closed  after  her,  and  saying  that  "  none  but  those  who 
had  tried  it  knew  what  a  thankless  job  it  was  to  rear 
the  offspring  of  others." 

There  was  a  peculiar  look  in  Mr.  Graham's  eyes,  as  he 
answered,  "  In  your  case  I  will  gladly  relieve  you,  if  my 
wife  is  willing.  I  have  taken  a  great  fancy  to  Miss  Riv 
ers,  and  would  like  to  adopt  her  as  my  daughter.  I  will 
speak  to  Mrs.  Graham  to-night." 

Much  as  she  disliked  'Lena,  Mrs.  Livingstone  would  not 
for  the  world  have  her  become  an  inmate  of  Mr.  Graham's 
family,  where  she  would  be  constantly  thrown  in  Dur- 
ward'sway;  and  immediately  changing  her  tactic,  she 
replied,  "  I  thank  you  for  your  kind  offer,  but  I  know  my 
husband  would  not  think  of  such  a  thing;  neither  should 
I  be  quite  willing  for  her  to  leave  us,  much  as  she  troubles 
me." 

^  Mr.  Graham  bowed  stiffly,  and  left  the  house.  That 
night,  after  he  had  retired  to  his  room,  he  seemed  unusually 
distracted,  pacing  up  and  down  the  apartment,  occa 
sionally  pausing  to  gaze  out  into  the  moon-lit  sky,  and  then 
resuming  his  measured  tread.  At  last  nerving  himself 


148  'LEXA   RIVERS. 

to  brave  the  difficulty,  he  stopped  before  his  wife,  to  whom 
he  made  known  his  plan  of  adopting  'Lena. 

"  It  seems  hasty,  I  know,"  said  he,  "  but  she  is  just  the 
kind  of  person  I  would  like  to  have  round — -just  such  an 
one  as  I  would  wish  my  daughter  to  be  if  I  had  one.  In 
short,  I  like  her,  and  with  your  consent  I  will  adopt  her 
as  my  own,  and  take  her  from  this  place  where  I  know 
she's  not  wanted.  What  say  you,  Lucy  ?  " 

"Will  you  adopt  the  old  woman  too?"  asked  Mrs. 
Graham,  whose  face  was  turned  away  so  as  to  hide  ita 
expression. 

"  That  is  an  after  consideration,"  returned  her  husband, 
"  But  if  you  are  willing,  I  will  either  take  her  to  our  home, 
or  provide  for  her  elsewhere— but  come,  what  do  you  say?" 
Ah1  this  time  Mrs.  Graham  had  sat  bolt  upright,  her 
little  dumpling  hands  folded  one  within  the  other,  the  long 
transparent  nails  making  deep  indentures  in  the  soft  flesh, 
and  her  gray  eyes  emitting  green  gleams  of  scorn.  The 
answer  her  husband  sought  came  at  length,  and  was  char 
acteristic  of  the  woman.  Hissing  out  the  words  from  be 
tween  her  teeth,  she  replied,  "  When  I  take  'Lena  Rivers 
into  my  family  for  my  husband  and  son  to  make  love  to, 
alternately,  I  shall  be  ready  for  the  lunatic  asylum  at 
Lexington." 

"And  what  objection  have  you  to  her?"  asked  Mr. 
Graham ;  to  which  his  wife  replied,  "  The  very  fact,  sir, 
that  you  wish  it,  is  a  sufficient  reason  why  I  will  not  have 
her ;  besides  that,  you  must  misjudge  me  strangely  if  you 
think  I'd  be  willing  for  my  son  to  come  daily  in  contact 
with  a  girl  of  her  doubtful  parentage." 

"  What  know  you  of  her  parentage  ?  "  said  Mr.  Graham, 
his  lips  turning  slightly  pale. 

"  Yes,  what  do  I  know  ?  "  answered  his  wife.  "  Her 
father,  if  she  has  any,  is  a  rascal,  a  villain — " 


WOODLAWN.  lift 

"  Yes,  yes,  all  of  that,"  muttered  Mr.  Graham,  while 
his  wife  continued,  "And  her  mother  a  poor,  low,  mean, 
ignorant — " 

"Hold!"  thundered  Mr.  Graham.  "You  shall  not 
speak  so  of  any  woman  of  whom  you  know  nothing, 
much  less  of  'Lena  Rivers'  mother." 

"  And  pray  what  do  you  know  of  her — is  she  an  old 
acquaintance?"  asked  Mrs.  Graham,  throwing  into  her 
manner  as  much  of  insolence  as  possible. 

"  I  know,"  returned  Mr.  Graham,  "  that  'Lena's  mother 
could  be  nothing  else  than  respectable." 

"  Undoubtedly ;  but  of  this  be  assured — the  daughter 
shall  never,  by  my  permission,  darken  my  doors,"  said 
Mrs.  Graham,  growing  more  and  more  excited,  and  con 
tinuing — "I  know  you  of  old,  Harry  Graham;  and  I 
know  now  that  your  great  desire  to  secure  Woodlawn  was 
so  as  to  be  near  her,  but  it  shan't  be." 

In  her  excitement,  Mrs.  Graham  forgot  that  it  was  her 
self  who  had  first  suggested  Woodlawn  as  a  residence, 
and  that  until  within  a  day  or  two  her  husband  and  'Lena 
were  entire  strangers.  But  this  made  no  diiference.  She 
was  bent  upon  being  unreasonable,  and  for  nearly  an  hour 
she  fretted  and  cried,  declaring  herself  the  most  abused 
of  her  sex,  and  wishing  she  had  never  seen  her  husband, 
who,  in  his  heart,  warmly  seconded  that  wish,  wisely  re 
solving  not  to  mention  the  offending  'Lena  again  in  the 
presence  of  his  wife. 

The  next  day  the  bargain  for  Woodlawn  was  comple 
ted ;  after  which,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Graham,  together  with 
Durward,  returned  to  Louisville,  intending  to  take  pos 
session  of  their  new  home  about  the  first  of  October. 


J50  'LENA  RIVERa 

CHAPTER  XII. 

MKS.    GRAHAM    AT     HOME. 

As  the  summer  advanced,  extensive  preparations  were 
commenced  for  repairing  Woodlawn,  which  was  to  be  fit 
ted  up  in  a  style  suited  to  the  luxurious  taste  of  its  right 
ful  owner,  which,  as  report  said,  was  in  reality  Durward. 
He  had  conceived  a  fancy  for  the  place  five  years  before, 
when  visiting  in  the  neighborhood,  and  on  learning  that 
it  was  for  sale,  he  had  purchased  it,  at  the  suggestion  of 
his  mother,  proposing  to  his  father  that  for  a  time,  at  least, 
he  should  be  its  nominal  possessor.  What  reason  he  had 
for  this  he  hardly  knew  himself,  unless  it  was  that  he  dis 
liked  being  flattered  as  a  man  of  great  wealth,  choosing 
rather  to  be  esteemed  for  what  he  really  was. 

And,  indeed,  few  of  his  age  were  more  generally  be 
loved  than  was  he.  Courteous,  kind-hearted,  and  gener 
ous  almost  to  a  fault,  he  gained  friends  wherever  he  went, 
and  it  was  with  some  reason  that  Mrs.  Graham  ^thought 
herself  blessed  above  mothers,  in  the  possession  of  such  a 
son.  "  He  is  so  like  me,"  she  would  say;  in  speaking  of 
his  many  virtues,  when,  in  fact,  there  was  scarcely  any 
thing  in  common  between  them,  for  nearly  all  of  Dur 
ward' s  sterling  qualities  were  either  inherited  from  his 
own  father,  or  the  result  of  many  years'  companionship 
with  his  step-father.  Possessed  of  the  most  exquisite 
taste,  he  exercised  it  in  the  arrangement  of  Woodlawn, 
which,  under  his  skillful  management,  began  in  a  few 
weeks  to  assume  a  more  beautiful  appearance  than  it  had 
ever  before  worn. 

Once  in  two  weeks  either  Mr.  Graham  or  Durward 
came  out  to  see  how  matters  were  progressing,  the  latter 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  151 

usually  accepting  Mrs.  Livingstone's  pressing  invitatioTi 
to  make  her  house  his  home.  This  he  was  the  more  wil 
ling  to  do,  as  it  threw  him  into  the  society  of  'Lena,  who 
was  fast  becoming  an  object  of  absorbing  interest  to  him. 
The  more  he  saw  of  her,  the  more  was  his  admiration  in 
creased,  and  oftentimes,  when  joked  concerning  his  pref 
erence  for  Carrie,  he  smiled  to  think  how  people  were  de 
ceived,  determining,  however,  to  keep  his  own  secret  un 
til  such  time  as  he  should  be  convinced  that  'Lena  was  all 
he  could  desire  in  a  wife.  For  her  poverty  and  humble 
birth  he  cared  nothing.  If  she  were  poor,  he  was  rich, 
and  he  possessed  too  much  good  sense  to  deem  himself 
better  than  she,  because  the  blood  of  a  nobleman  flowed 
in  his  veins.  He  knew  that  she  was  highly  gifted  and 
beautiful,  and  could  he  be  assured  that  she  was  equally 
true-hearted,  he  would  not  hesitate  a  moment. 

But  Mrs.  Livingstone's  insinuation  that  she  was  a  heart 
less  coquette,  troubled  him,  and  though  he  could  not  be 
lieve  it  without  more  proof  than  he  had  yet  received,  he 
determined  to  wait  and  watch,  studying  her  character,  the 
while,  to. see  if  there  was  in  her  aught  of  evil.  In  this 
state  of  affairs,  it  was  hardly  more  than  natural  that  his 
manner  toward  her  should  be  rather  more  reserved  than 
that  which  he  assumed  toward  Carrie,  for  whom  he  cared 
nothing,  and  with  whom  he  talked,  laughed,  and  rode,  for 
getting  her  the  moment  she  was  out  of  his  sight,  and 
never  suspecting  how  much  importance  she  attached  to 
his  every  word  and  look,  construing  into  tokens  of  admi 
ration  the  most  casual  remark,  such  as  he  would  utter  to 
any  one.  This  was  of  advantage  to  'Lena,  for,  secure  of 
their  prize,  both  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie,  for  a  time, 
at  least,  ceased  to  persecute  her,  seldom  speaking  of  her 
in  Dur ward's  presence,  and,  as  a  general  thing,  actincr  a* 
though  she  were  not  in  existence. 


152  'LENA    RIVERS. 

John  Jr.,  too,  who  had  imposed  upon  himself  the  duty 
of  watching  his  mother  and  sister,  seeing  no  signs  of  hos 
tility,  now  withdrew  his  espionage,  amusing  himself,  in 
stead,  by  galloping  three  times  a  week  over  to  Frankfort, 
the  home  of  Nellie  Douglass,  and  by  keeping  an  eye  up 
on  Captain  Atherton,  who,  as  a  spider  would  watch  a  fly, 
was  lying  in  wait  for  the  unsuspecting  Anna. 

At  last  all  was  in  readiness  at  Woodlawn  for  the  re 
ception  of  Mrs.  Graham,  who  came  up  early  in  October, 
bringing  with  her  a  larger  tram  of  house  servants  than  was 
often  seen  in  Woodford  county.  About  three  weeks  after 
her  arrival,  invitations  were  issued  for  a  party,  or  "  house- 
warming,"  as  the  negroes  termed  it.  Nero,  Durward's 
valet,  brought  the  tiny  notes  to  Mr.  Livingstone's,  giving 
them  into  the  care  of  Carrie,  who  took  them  immediately 
to  her  mother's  room. 

"It's  Durward's  handwriting,"  said  shek  glancing  at 
the  superscriptions,  and  reading  as  she  did  so — "  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Livingstone" — "  Mr.  John  Livingstone,  Jr."—"  Miss 
Carrie  Livingstone" — "  Miss  Anna  Livingstone" — "  Miss 
'Lena  Elvers ; "  and  here  she  stopped,  in  utter  dismay, 
continuing,  as  her  mother  looked  up  inquiringly — "  And, 
as  I  live,  one  for  grandma — '  MRS.  MARTHA  NICHOLS  ! ' " 

"Impossible!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Livingstone,  reaching 
out  her  hand  for  the  billet.  "  Yes,  't  is  Mrs.  Martha  Nich 
ols ! — what  can  it  mean  ?  " 

A  peep  behind  the  scenes  would  have  told  her  what  it 
meant.  For  once  in  his  life  Mr.  Graham  had  exercised 
the  right  of  being  master  in  his  own  house,  declaring  that 
if  Mrs.  Nichols  were  not  invited  with  the  family,  there 
should  be  no  party  at  all.  Mrs.  Graham  saw  that  he  was  in 
earnest,  and  yielded  the  point,  knowing  that  in  all  proba 
bility  the  old  lady  would  not  be  permitted  to  attend, 
Her  husband  had  expected  a  like  opposition  with  regard 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  1IOME.  l;.a 

to  'Lena,  but  he  was  disappointed,  for  his  wife,  forgetting 
her  declaration  that  'Lena  should  never  darken  her  doore, 
and  thinking  it  would  not  do  to  slight  her,  consented 
that,  on  her  uncle's  account,  she  should  be  invited.  Ac 
cordingly,  the  notes  were  dispatched,  producing  the  effect 
we  have  seen. 

"How  perfectly  ridiculous  to  invite  grandma!"  said 
Carrie.  "  It's  bad  enough  to  have  'Lena  stuck  in  with 
us,  for  of  course  sheHl  go." 

"Why  of  course?"  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone.  "The 
invitations  are  at  my  disposal  now ;  and  if  I  choose  to 
withhold  two  of  them,  no  one  will  be  blamed  but  Nero, 
who  was  careless  and  dropped  them !  'Lena  has  nothing 
decent  to  wear,  and  I  don't  feel  like  expending  much 
more  for  a  person  so  ungrateful  as  she  is.  You  ought 
to  have  heard  how  impudent  she  was  that  time  you  all 
went  to  Woodlawn."- 

Then  followed  a  one-sided  description  of  that  morning's 
occurrence,  Mrs.  Livingstone  working  herself  up  to  such 
a  pitch  of  excitement,  that  before  her  recital  was  finished,' 
she  had  determined  at  all  events  to  keep  back  'Lena's  in 
vitation,  as  a  method  of  punishing  her  for  her  "  insolence," 
as  she  termed  it. 

"  Mrs.  Graham  will  thank  me  for  it,  I  know,"  said  she, 
"  for  she  cannot  endure  her ;  and  besides  that,  I  don't 
think  'Lena  expects  to  be  invited,  so  there's  no  harm 
done." 

Carrie  was  not  yet  quite  so  hardened  as  her  mother, 
and  for  a  moment  her  better  nature  shrank  from  so  mean 
a  transaction,  which  might,  after  all,  be  found  out,  in- 
volving  them  in  a  still  worse  difficulty;  but  as  the 
thought  flashed  upon  her  that  possibly  'Lena  might  again 
attract  Durward  toward  her,  she  assented,  and  they  were 
about  putting  the  notes  aside,  when  John  Jr.  came  in, 
G* 


154  'LEXA  RIVE11S. 

catching  up  his  grandmother's  note  the  first  thing,  and 
exclaiming,  "Oh,  rich! — capital!  I  hope  she'll  go!" 
Then,  before  his  mother  could  interpose  a  word,  he  dart 
ed  away  in  quest  of  Mrs.  Nichols,  whose  surprise  was 
fully  equal  to  that  of  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie. 

"  Now,  you  don't  say  I've  got  an  invite,"  said  she, 
leaving  tue  darning-needle  in  the  stocking-heel  which  she 
;ras  mending,  and   wiping  her   steel-bowed   spectacles. 
Oome,  'Leny,  you  read  it,  that's  a  good  girl." 
'Lena  complied,  and  taking  the  note  from  her  cousin's 
nand,  read  that  Mrs.  Graham  would  be  at  home  Thursday 
evening,  &c. 

"But  where's  the  invite?  That  don't  say  anything 
about  me  !  "  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  beginning  to  fear  that  it 
was  a  humbug  after  all. 

As  well  as  they  could,  'Lena*  and  John  Jr.  explained  it 
to  her,  and  then,  fully  convinced  that  she  was  really  invi 
ted,  Mrs.  Nichols  began  to  wonder  what  she  should  wear, 
and  how  she  should  go,  asking  John  "if  he  couldn't 
tackle  up  and  carry  her  in  the  shay,"  as  .she  called  the 
single  buggy. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  John  Jr.,  willing  to  do  anything 
for  the  sake  of  the  fun  which  he  knew  would  ensue  from 
his  grandmother's  attendance. 

'Lena  thought  otherwise,  for  much  as  she  desired  to 
gratify  her  grandmother,  she  would  not  for  the  world  ex 
pose  her  to  the  ridicule  which  her  appearance  at  a  fash 
ionable  party  would  call  forth.  Glancing  reprovingly  at 
her  cousin,  she  said,  "  I  wouldn't  think  of  going,  grand- 
ma,  for  you  are  lame  and  old,  and  there'll  be  so  many 
people  there,  all  strangers,  too,  that  you  won't  enjoy  it 
at  all.  Besides  that,  we'll  have  a  nice  time  at  home  to 
gether—I'll  read  to  you  all  the  evening." 

"  TFe,"  repeated  John  Jr.    «  Pray,  are  you  not  going  ?  " 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  155 

:t  Not  without  an  invitation,"  said  'Lena,  smilingly. 

"  True,  true,"  returned  her  cousin.  "  It's  down  stairs, 
I  dare  say.  I  only  stopped  to  look  at  this.  I'll  go  and 
get  yours  now." 

"  Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  descended  to  his 
mother's  room,  asking  for  "  'Lena's  card." 

"  'Lena's  card  !  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  looking  up  from  the  book  she  was  reading, 
while  Carrie  for  a  moment  suspended  her  needle-work. 

"  Lena's  invitation  ;  "  you  know  well  enough  what  I 
mean,"  returned  John  Jr.,  tumbling  over  the  notes  which 
lay  upon  the  table,  and  failing  to  find  the  one  for  which 
he  was  seeking. 

"  You'll  have  to  ask  Mrs.  Graham  for  it,  I  presume,  as 
it's  not  here,"  was  Mrs.  Livingstone's  quiet  answer. 

"Thunder!"  roared  John  Jr.,  "'Lena  not  invited! 
That's  a  smart  caper.  But  there's  some  mistake  about  it, 
I  know.  Who  brought  them  ?  " 

44  Nero  brought  them,"  said  Carrie,  "and  I  think  it 
is  strange  that  grandmother  should  be  invited  and  'Lena 
left  out.  But  I  suppose  Mrs.  Graham  has  her  reasons. 
She  don't  seem  to  fancy  'Lena  much." 

"  Mrs.  Graham  go  to  grass,"  muttered  John  Jr.,  leaving 
the  room  and  slamming  the  door  after  him  with  great 
violence. 

4  'Twas  a  pity  he  did  not  look  in  one  of  the  drawers 
of  his  mother's  work-box,  for  there,  safe  and  sound,  lay 
the  missing  note !  But  he  did  not  think  of  that.  He 
only  knew  that  'Lena  was  slighted,  and  for  the  next  two 
hours  he  raved  and  fretted,  sometimes  declaring  he  would 
not  go,  and  again  wishing  Mrs.  Graham  in  a  temperature 
but  little  suited  to  her  round,  fat  proportions. 

44  Wall,  if  they  feel  too  big  to  invite  'Leny,  they  needn't 
expect  to  see  me  there,  that's  just  all  there  is  about  it," 


156  'LENA  RIVERS. 

said  grandma,  settling  herself  in  her  rocking-chair,  and 
telling  'Lena  "  she  would'nt  care  an  atom  if  she's  in  her 
place." 

But  'Lena  did  care.  No  one  likes  to  be  slighted,  and 
she  was  not  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  Owing  to 
her  aunt's  skillful  management  she  had  never  yet  attended 
a  large  party,  and  it  was  but  natural  that  she  should  now 
wish  to  go.  But  it  could  not  be,  and  she  was  obliged  to 
content  herself  with  the  hopes  of  a  minute  description 
from  Anna;  Carrie  she  would  not  trust,  for  she  well 
knew  that  whatever  she  told  would  be  greatly  ex 
aggerated. 

Mrs.  Graham  undoubtedly  wished  to  give  her  friends 
ample  time  to  prepare,  for  her  invitations  were  issued 
nearly  a  week  in  advance.  This  suited  Carrie,  who  had 
a  longer  time  to  decide  upon  what  would  be  becoming, 
and  when  at  last  a  decision  was  made,  she  could  do  noth 
ing  but  talk  about  her  dress,  which  really  was  beautiful, 
consisting  of  a  pink  and  white  silk,  with  an  over-skirt  of 
soft,  rich  lace.  This,  after  it  was  completed,  was  tried  on 
at  least  half  a  dozen  times,  and  the  effect  carefully  studied 
before  the  long  mirror.  Anna,  who  cared  much  less  for 
dress  than  her  sister,  decided  upon  a  black  flounced  skirfc 
and  velvet  basque.  This  was  Mr.  Everett's  taste,  and 
whatever  suited  him  suited  her. 

"  I  do  think  it's  too  bad  that  'Lena  is  not  invited,"  said 
she  one  day,  when  Carrie,  as  usual,  was  discussing  the 
party.  "  She  would  enjoy  it  so  much.  "  I  don't  under 
stand,  either,  why  she  is  omitted,  for  Mr.  Graham  seemed 
to  like  her,  and  Durward  too — " 

"A  great  ways  off,  you  mean,"  interrupted  Carrie. 
"  For  my  part,  I  see  nothing  strange  in  the  omission.  It 
is  no  worse  to  leave  her  out  than  scores  of  others  who 
will  not  be  invited." 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  157 

"  But  to  come  into  the  house  and  ask  all  but  her,"  said 
Anna.  "It  does  not  seem  right.  She  is  as  good  as  we 
are." 

"That's  as  people  think,"  returned  Carrie,  while  John 
Jr.,  who  was  just  going  out  to  ride,  and  had  stopped  a 
moment  at  the  door,  exclaimed,  "  Zounds,  Cad,  I  won 
der  if  you  fancy  yourself  better  than  'Lena  Rivers.  If 
you  do,  you  are  the  only  one  that  thinks  so.  Why,  you 
can't  begin  to  compare  with  her,  and  it's  a  confounded 
shame  that  she  isn't  invited,  and  so  I  shall  teU  them  if  I 
have  a  good  chance." 

"You'll  look  smart  fishing  for  an  invitation,  won't 
you?"  said  Carrie,  her  fears  instantly  aroused,  but 
John  Jr.  was  out  of  her  hearing  almost  before  the  words 
were  uttered. 

Mounting  Firelock,  he  started  off  for  Versailles,  falling 
in  with  Durward,  who  was  bound  for  the  same  place! 
After  the  usual  greetings  were  exchanged,  Durward 
said,  "I  suppose  you  are  all  coming  on  Thursday 
night  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  returned  John  Jr.,  "  I  believe  the  old  folks, 
Cad,  and  Anna  intend  doing  so." 

"  But  Where's  Miss  Rivers  ?  Doesn't  she  honor  us  with 
her  presence  ?  "  asked  Durward,  in  some  concern. 

John  Jr.'s  first  impulse,  as  he  afterwards  said,  was  "  to 
knock  him  off  from  his  horse,"  but  a  second  thought  con 
vinced  him  there  might  be  some  mistake  ;  so  he  replied 
that  "it  was  hardly  to  be  supposed  Miss  Rivers  would 
attend  without  an  invitation— she  wasn't  quite  so  ver 
dant  as  that !  " 

"Without  an  invitation  !  "  repeated  Durward,  stopping 
short  in  the  road.  "  'Lena  not  invited !  It  isn't  so  !  I 
directed  one  to  her  myself,  and  gave  it  to  Nero,  togeth 
er  with  the  rest  wluch  were  designed  for  your  family. 


153  'LENA  RIVERS. 

i 

lie  must  have  lost  it.  I'll  ask  him  the  moment  I  get 
home,  and  see  that  it  is  all  made  right.  She  must  come, 
any  way,  for  I  would'nt  give — " 

Here  he  stopped,  as  if  he  had  said  too  much,  but  John 
Jr.  finished  the  sentence  for  him. 

"  Wouldn't  give  a  picayune  for  the  whole  affair  with 
out  her — that's  what  you  mean,  and  why  not  say  so  ?  I 
Bpeak  right  out  about  Nellie,  and  she  isn't  one  half  as 
handsome  as  'Lena." 

"  It  isn't  'Lena's  beauty  that  I  admire  altogether,"  re 
turned  Durward.  "  I  like  her  for  her  frankness,  and  be 
cause  I  think  her  conduct  is  actuated  by  the  best  of  prin 
ciples  ;  perhaps  I  am  mistaken — " 

"  No,  you  are  not,"  again  interrupted  John  Jr.  "  'Lena 
is  just  what  she  seems  to  be.  There's  no  deception  in 
her.  She  isn't  one  thing  to-day  and  another  to-morrow. 
Spunky  as  the  old  Nick,  you  know,  but  still  she  governs 
her  temper  admirably,  and  between  you  and  me,  I  know 
I'm  a  better  man  than  I  should  have  been  had  she  never 
come  to  live  with  us.  How  well  I  remember  the  first 
time  I  saw  her,"  he  continued,  repeating  to  Durward  the 
particulars  of  their  interview  in  Lexington,  and  describing 
her  introduction  to  his  sisters.  "  From  the  moment  she 
refused  to  tell  that  lie  for  me,  I  liked  her,"  said  he,  "  and 
when  she  dealt  me  that  blow  in  my  face,  my  admiration 
was  complete." 

Durward  thought  he  could  dispense  with  the  blow,  but 
he  laughed  heartily  at  John's  description  of  his  spirited 
cousin,  thinking,  too,  how  different  was  his  opinion  of 
her  from  that  which  his  mother  evidently  entertained. 
Still,  if  Mrs.  Livingstone  was  prejudiced,  John  Jr.  might 
also  be  somewhat  biased,  so  he  would  not  yet  make  up 
his  mind ;  but  on  one  thing  he  was  resolved — she  should 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  159 

be  invited,  and  for  fear  of  contingeucies,  he  would  carry 
the  card  himself. 

Accordingly,  on  his  retnrn  home,  Nero  was  closely 
questioned,  and  negro-like,  called  down  all  manner  of 
evil  upon  himself  "if  he  done  drapped  the  note  any  whar 
'Strue  as  I  live  and  breathe,  JVlas'r  Bellmont,"  said  he, 
"  I  done  carried  Miss  'Leny's  invite  with  the  rest,  and  guv 
Jem  all  to  the  young  lady  with  the  big  nose  ! " 

Had  Durward  understood  Mrs.  Livingstone  a  little  bet 
ter,  he  might  have  helieved  him ;  but  now  it  was  but  nat 
ural  for  him  to  suppose  that  Nero  had  accidentally  dropped 
it.  So  he  wrote  another,  taking  it  himself,  and  asking 
for  "Miss  Rivers."  Carrie,  who  was  in  the  parlor  and 
saw  him  coming  up  to  the  house,  instantly  flew  to  the 
glass,  smoothing  her  collar,  puffing  out  her  hair  a  little 
more,  pinching  her  cheek,  which  was  not  quite  so  red  as 
usual,  and  wishing  that  she  was  alone.  But  unfortunate 
ly,  both  Anna  and  'Lena  were  present,  and  as  there  was 
no  means  of  being  rid  of  them,  she  retained  her  seat  at 
the  piano,  carelessly  turning  over  the  leaves  of  her  music 
book,  when  the  door  opened,  and  Corinda,  not  Durward, 
appeared. 

"  If  you  please,  Miss  'Lena,"  said  the  girl,  Marster  Bell- 
mont  want  to  speak  with  you  in  the  hall." 

"  With  'Lena !  How  funny !  "  exclaimed  Carrie.  "  Are 
you  sure  it  was  'Lena  ?  " 

"  Yes,  sure — he  done  ask  for  Miss  Rivers." 

"  Ask  him  in,  why  don't  you  ?»  said  Carrie,  suspecting 
his  errand,  and  thinking  to  keep  herself  from  all  suspicion 
by  appearing  "wonderfully  pleased"  that  'Lena  was  not 
intentionally  neglected.  Before  Corinda  could  reply, 
'Lena  Jiad  stepped  into  the  hall,  and  was  standing  face  to 
face  with  Durward,  who  retained  her  hand,  while  ho 
asked  if  «  she  really  believed  they  intended  to  slight  her," 


160  'LENA  RIVERS. 

at  the  same  time  explaining  how  it  came  to  his  knowl 
edge,  and  saying  "  he  hoped  she  would  not  fail  to  attend." 
'Lena  hesitated,  but  he  pressed  her  so  hard,  saying  he 
should  surely  think  she  distrusted  them  if  she  refused, 
that  she  finally  consented,  and  he  took  his  leave,  playfully 
threatening  to  come  for  her  himself  if  she  were  not  there 
with  the  rest. 

"You  feel  better,  now,  don't  you?"  said  Carrie  with 
a  sneer,  as  'Lena  reentered  the  parlor. 

"  Yes,  a  great  deal,"  was  'Lena's  truthful  answer. 
"  Oh  I'm  real  glad!  "  exclaimed  Anna.     "  I  most  knew 
'twas  a  mistake  all  the  time,  and  I  did  so  want  you  to  go. 
What  will  you  wear?     Let  me  see.    Why,  you  havii't 
got  anything  suitable,  have  you  ?  " 

This  was  true,  for  'Lena  had  nothing  fit  for  the  occa 
sion,  and  she  was  beginning  to  wish  she  had  not  been  in 
vited,  when  her  uncle  came  in,  and  to  him  Anna  forth 
with  stated  the  case,  saying 'Lena  must  have  a  new  dress, 
and  suggesting  embroidered  muslin. 

"  How  ridiculous ! »  muttered  Carrie,  thrumming  away 
at  the  piano.  "  There's  no  time  to  make  dresses  now. 
They  should  have  invited  her  earlier." 

"  Isn't  Miss  Simpson  still  here  ?  "  asked  her  father. 
Anna  replied  that  she  was,  and  then  turning  to  'Lena, 
Mr.  Livingstone  asked  if  "  she  wanted  to  go  very  much." 
The  tears  which  shone  in  her  eyes  were  a  sufficient  an 
swer,  and  when  at  supper  that  night,  inquiry  was  made 
for  Mr.  Livingstone,  it  was  said  that  he  had  gone  to 
Frankfort. 

"  To  Frankfort !  "  repeated  his  wife.  "  What  has  he 
gone  there  for  ?  " 

No  one  knew  until  late  in  the  evening,  when«he  re 
turned  home,  bringing  with  him  'Lena's  dress,  which 
Anna  pronounced  "  the  sweetest  thing  she  ever  saw,"  at 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  151 

the  same  time  running  with  it  to  her  cousin.  There  was 
company  in  the  parlor,  which  for  a  time  kept  down  the 
gathering  storm  1n  Mrs.  Livingstone's  face,  but  the  mo 
ment  they  were  gone,  and  she  was  alone  with  her  hus 
band  in  their  room,  it  burst  forth,  and  in  angry  tones  she 
demanded  "  what  he  meant  by  spending  Tier  money  in 
that  way,  and  without  her  consent  ?  " 

Before  making  any  reply,  Mr.  Livingstone  stepped  to 
her  work-box,  and  opening  the  little  drawer,  held  to  view 
the  missing  note.  Then  turning  to  his  wife,  whose  face 
was  very  pale,  he  said,  "  This  morning  I  made  a  discovery 
which  exonerates  Nero  from  all  blame.  I  understand  it  ful 
ly,  and  while  I  knew  you  were  capable  of  almost  anything, 
I  must  say  I  did  not  think  you  would  be  guilty  of  quite 
so  mean  an  act.  Stay,"  he  continued,  as  he  saw  her 
about  to  speak,  "  You  are  my  wife,  and  as  'Lena  is  at 
last  invited,  your  secret  is  safe,  but  remember,  it  must 
not  be  repeated.  You  understand  me,  do  you  ?  " 

Mrs.  Livingstone  was  struck  dumb  with  mortification 
and  astonishment — the  first,  that  she  was  detected,  and 
the  last,  that  her  husband  dare  assume  such  language  to 
ward  her.  But  he  had  her  in  his  power — she  knew  that 
— and  for  a  time  it  rendered  her  very  docile,  causing  her 
to  consult  with  Miss  Simpson  concerning  the  fitting  of 
'Lena's  dress,  herself  standing  by  when  it  was  done,  and 
suggesting  one  or  two  improvements,  until  'Lena,  per- 
fectly  bewildered,  wondered  what  had  come  over  her 
aunt,  that  she  should  be  so  unusually  kind.  Carrie,  too, 
learning  from  her  mother  how  matters  stood,  thought 
proper  to  change  her  manner,  and  while  in  her  heart  she 
hoped  something  would  occur  to  keep  'Lena  at  home,  she 
loudly  expressed  her  pleasure  that  she  was  going,  offer 
ing  to  lend  her  several  little  ornaments,  and  doing  many 

U 


102  'LENA    RIVERS. 

things  which  puzzled  'Lena,  who  readily  saw  that  she 
was  feigning  what  she  did  not  feel. 

Meanwhile,  grandma,  learning  that  'Lena  was  invited, 
declared  her  intention  of  going.  "I  shouldn't  of  gin 
up  in  the  first  on't,"  said  she,  "  only  I  wanted  to  show 
'em  proper  resentment ;  but  now  it's  different,  and  I'll 
go,  anyway — 'Tilda  may  say  what  she's  a  mind  to." 

It  was  in  vain  that  'Lena  reasoned  the  case.  Grandma 
was  decided,  and  it  was  not  until  both  her  son  and  daugh 
ter  interfered,  the  one  advising  and  the  other  command 
ing  her  to  stay  at  home,  that  she  yielded  with  a  burst  of 
tears,  for  grandma  was  now  in  her  second  childhood,  and 
easily  moved.  It  was  terrible  to  'Lena  to  see  her  grand 
mother  weep,  and  twining  her  arms  around  her  neck,  she 
tried  to  soothe  her,  saying,  "  she  would  willingly  stay  at 
home  with  her  if  she  wished  it." 

Mrs.  Nichols  was  not  selfish  enough  to  suffer  this.  "  No, 
'Leny,"  said  she,  I  want  you  to  go  and  enjoy  yourself 
while  you  are  young,  for  you'll  sometime  be  old  and  in 
the  way ;"  and  the  old  creature  covered  her  face  with 
her  shriveled  hands  and  wept. 

But  she  was  of  too  cheerful  a  nature  long  to  remember 
grief,  and  drying  her  tears,  she  soon  forgot  her- trouble 
in  the  pride  and  satisfaction  which  she  felt  when  she  saw 
how  well  the  white  muslin  became  'Lena,  who,  John  Jr. 
said,  never  looked  so  beautifully  as  she  did  when  arrayed 
for  the  party.  Mr.  Livingstone  had  not  been  sparing  of 
his  money  when  he  purchased  the  party  dress,  which  was 
a  richly  embroidered  muslin,  and  fell  in  soft  folds  around 
'Lena's  graceful  figure.  Her  long,  flowing  curls  were  in 
tertwined  with  a  few  natural  flowers,  her  only  attempt  at 
ornament  of  any  kind,  and,  indeed,  ornaments  would 
have  been  sadly  out  of  place  on  'Lena. 

It  was  between  nine  and  ten  when  the  party  from  Ma/- 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  163 

pie  Grove  reached  Woodlawn,  where  they  found  a  largo 
company  assembled,  some  in  the  drawing  rooms  below, 
and  others  still  lingering  at  the  toilet  hi  the  dressing 
chamber.  Among  these  last  were  Nellie  Douglass  and 
Mabel  Ross,  the  latter  of  whom  Mrs.  Livingstone  was 
perfectly  delighted  to  see,  overwhelming  her  with  ca 
resses,  and  urging  her  to  stop  for  a  while  at  Maple  Grove. 

" 1  shall  be  so  glad  to  have  you  with  us,  and  the  coun 
try  air  will  do  you  so  much  good,  that  you  must  not  re 
fuse,"  said  she,  pinching  Mabel's  sallow  cheek,  and  stro 
king  her  straight,  glossy  hair,  which,  in  contrast  with  the 
bandeau  of  pearls  that  she  wore,  looked  dark  as  midnight. 

Spite  of  her  wealth,  Mabel  had  long  been  accustomed 
to  neglect,  and  there  was  something  so  kind  in  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone's  motherly  demeanor,  that  the  heart  of  the  young 
orphan  warmed  toward  her,  and  tears  glittered  in  her 
large,  mournful  eyes,  the  only  beauty,  save  her  hair,  of 
which  she  could  boast.  Very  few  had  ever  cared  for  poor 
Mabel,  who,  though  warm  hearted  and  affectionate,  re 
quired  to  be  known  in  order  to  be  appreciated,  and  as 
she  was  naturally  shy  and  retiring,  there  were  not  many 
who  felt  at  all  acquainted  with  her.  Left  alone  in  the 
world  at  a  very  early  age,  she  had  never  known  what  it 
was  to  possess  a  real,  disinterested  friend,  unless  we  ex 
cept  Nellie  Douglass,  who,  while  there  was  nothing  con 
genial  between  them,  had  always  tried  to  treat  Mabel  as 
she  herself  would  wish  to  be  treated,  were  she  in  like  cir 
cumstances. 

Many  had  professed  friendship  for  the  sake  of  the  gain 
which  they  knew  would  accrue,  for  she  was  generous  to 
a  fault,  bestowing  with  a  lavish  hand  upon  those  whom 
she  loved,  and  who  had  too  often  proved  false,  denoun 
cing  her  as  utterly  spiritless  and  insipid.  So  often  had 
she  been  deceived,  that  now,  at  the  age  of  eighteen,  shp 


164  'LENA  HIVERS. 

had  learned  to  distrust  her  fellow  creatures,  and  often 
times  in  secret  would  she  weep  bitterly  over  her  lonely 
condition,  lamenting  the  plain  face  and  unattractive  man 
ners,  which  she  fancied  rendered  her  an  object  of  dislike. 
Still  there  was  about  her  a  depth  of  feeling  of  which 
none  had  ever  dreamed,  and  it  only  required  a  skillful 
hand  to  mold  her  into  an  altogether  different  being. 
She  was,  perhaps,  too  easily  influenced,  for  in  spite  of  her 
distrust,  a  pleasant  word  or  kind  look  would  win  her  to 
almost  anything. 

Of  this  weakness  Mrs.  Livingstone  seemed  well  aware, 
and  for  the  better  accomplishment  of  her  plan,  she  deemed 
it  necessary  that  Mabel  should  believe  her  to  be  the  best 
friend  she  had  in  the  world.  Accordingly,  she  now  flat 
tered  and  petted  her,  calling  her  "  darling,"  and  "  dear 
est,"  and  urging  her  to  stop  at  Maple  Grove,  until  she 
consented,  "  provided  Nellie  Douglass  were  willing." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care,"  answered  Nellie,  whose  gay,  dash 
ing  disposition  poorly  accorded  with  the  listless,  sickly 
Mabel,  and  who  felt  it  rather  a  relief  than  otherwise  to 
be  rid  of  her. 

So  it  was  decided  that  she  should  stay  at  Maple  Grove, 
and  then  Mrs.  Livingstone,  passsing  her  arm  around  her 
waist,  whispered,  "  Go  down  with  me,"  at  the  same  time 
starting  for  the  parlor,  followed  by  her  daughters,  Nellie, 
and  'Lena.  In  the  hall  they  met  with  John  Jr.  He  had 
heard  Nellie's  voice,  and  stationing  himself  at  the  head  of 
the  stairs,  was  waiting  her  appearance. 

"Miss  Ross,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  her  son,  at  the 
same  time  indicating  her  willingness  to  give  her  into  his 
care. 

But  John  Jr.  would  not  take  the  hint.  Bowing  stiffly 
to  Mabel,  he  passed  on  toward  Nellie,  in  his  eagerness 
stepping  on  Carrie's  trail,  and  drawing  from  her  an  excla 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  K>5 

mation  of  anger  at  his  awkwardness.  Mrs.  Livingstone 
glanced  backward  just  in  time  to  see  the  look  of  affection 
with  which  her  son  regarded  Nellie,  as  she  placed  her  soft 
hand  confidingly  upon  his  arm,  and  gazed  upward  smi 
lingly  into  his  face.  She  dared  not  slight  Miss  Douglass  in 
public,  but  with  a  mental  invective  against  her,  she  drew 
Mabel  closer  to  her  side,  and  smoothing  down  the  heavy 
folds  of  her  moire  antique,  entered  the  drawing-room, 
which  was  brilliantly  lighted,  and  filled  with  the  beauty 
and  fashion  of  Lexington,  Frankfort,  and  Versailles. 

At  the  door  they  met  Durward,  who,  as  he  took  'Lena's 
hand,  said,  "  It  is  well  you  remembered  your  promise, 
for  I  was  about  starting  after  you."  This  observation 
did  not  escape  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who,  besides  having  her 
son  and  Nellie  under  her  special  cognizance,  had  also  an 
eye  upon  her  niece  and  Anna.  Her  espionage  of  the  lat 
ter,  however,  was  not  needed  immediately,  owing  to  her 
being  straightway  appropriated  to  Captain  Atherton, 
who,  in  dainty  wThite  kids,  and  vest  to  match,  (the  color, 
not  the  material,)  strutted  back  and  forth  with  Anna 
tucked  under  his  arm,  until  the  poor  girl  was  ready  to 
cry  with  vexation. 

When  the  guests  had  nearly  all  arrived,  both  Mr. 
Graham  and  Durward  started  for  'Lena,  the  latter  reach 
ing  her  first,  and  paying  her  so  many  little  attentions, 
that  the  curiosity  of  others  was  aroused,  and  frequently 
was  the  question  asked,  "  Who  is  she,  the  beautiful  young 
lady  in  white  muslin  and  curls  ?  " 

Nothing  of  all  this  escaped  Mrs.  Livingstone,  and  once, 
in  passing  near  her  niece,  she  managed  to  whisper,  "  For 
heaven's  sake  don't  show  your  ignorance  of  etiquette  by 
taxing  Mr.  Bellmont's  good  nature  any  longer.  It'a 
very  improper  to  claim  any  one's  attention  so  long,  and 
you  are  calling  forth  remarks." 


166  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Then  quickly  changing  the  whisper  into  her  softest 
tones,  she  said  to  Durward,  "  How  can  you  resist  such 
beseeching  glances  as  those  ladies  send  toward  you?" 
nodding  to  a  group  of  girls  of  which  Carrie  was  one. 

'Lena  colored  scarlet,  and  gazed  wistfully  around  the 
room  in  quest  of  some  other  shelter  when  Durward  should 
relinquish  her,  as  she  felt  ho  would  surely  do,  but  none 
presented  itself.  Her  uncle  was  playing  the  agreeable  to 
Miss  Atherton,  Mr.  Graham  to  some  other  lady,  while 
John  Jr.  kept  closely  at  Nellie's  side,  forgetful  of  all  else. 

"  What  shall  I  do  ?  "  said  'Lena,  unconsciously  and 

half  aloud. 

"  Stay  with  me,"  answered  Durward,  drawing  her  hand 
farther  within  his  arm,  and  bending  upon  her  a  look  of 
admiration  which  she  could  not  mistake. 

Several  times  they  passed  and  re-passed  Mrs.  Graham, 
who  was  highly  incensed  at  her  son's  proceedings,  and  at 
last  actually  asked  him  "if  he  did  not  intend  noticing  any 
one  except  Miss  Rivers,"  adding,  as  an  apology  for  her 
rudeness,  (for  Mrs.  Graham  prided  herself  upon  being 
very  polite  in  her  own  house,)  "  she  has  charms  enough 
to  win  a  dozen  gallants,  but  there  are  others  here  who 
need  attention  from  you.  There's  Miss  Livingstone, 
you've  hardly  spoken  with  her  to-night." 

Thus  importuned,  Durward  released  'Lena  and  walked 
away,  attaching  himself  to  Carrie,  who  clung  to  him 
closer,  if  possible,  than  did  the  old  captain  to  Anna. 
About  this  time  Mr.  Everett  came.  He  had  been  neces 
sarily  detained,  and  now,  after  paying  his  respects  to  the 
host  and  hostess,  he  started  in  quest  of  Anna,  who  was 
still  held  "  in  durance  vile "  by  the  captain.  But  the 
moment  she  saw  Malcolm,  she  uttered  a  low  exclama 
tion  of  joy,  and  without  a  single  apology,  broke  abruptly 
away  from  her  ancient  cavalier,  whose  little  watery  eyes 


MRS.  GRAHAM  AT  HOME.  167 

looked  daggers  after  her  for  an  instant ;  then  consoling 
himself  with  the  reflection  that  he  was  tolerably  sure  of 
her,  do  what  she  would,  he  walked  up  to  her  mother, 
kindly  relieving  her  for  a  time  of  her  charge,  who  was 
becoming  rather  tiresome.  Frequently,  by  nods,  winks, 
and  frowns,  had  Mrs.  Livingstone  tried  to  bring  her  son 
to  a  sense  of  his  improper  conduct  in  devoting  himself 
exclusively  to  one  individual,  and  neglecting  all  others. 

But  her  efforts  were  all  in  vain.  John  Jr.  was  incor 
rigible,  slily  whispering  to  Nellie,  that  "  he  had  no  idea 
of  beauing  a  medicine  chest."  This  he  said,  referring  to 
Mabel's  ill  health,  for  among  his  other  oddities,  John  Jr. 
had  a  particular  aversion  to  sickly  ladies.  Of  course  Nel 
lie  reproved  him  for  his  unkind  remarks,  at  the  same  time 
warmly  defending  Mabel,  "who,"  she  said,  "had  been 
delicate  from  infancy,  and  suffered  far  more  than  was  gen 
erally  suspected." 

"  Let  her  stay  at  home,  then,"  was  John  Jr.'s  answer, 
as  he  led  Nellie  toward  the  supper-room,  which  the  com 
pany  were  just  then  entering. 

About  an  hour  after  supper  the  guests  began  to  leave, 
Mrs.  Livingstone  being  the  first  to  propose  going.  As 
she  was  ascending  the  stairs,  John  Jr.  observed  that  Ma 
bel  was  with  her,  and  turning  to  'Lena,  who  now  leaned 
on  his  arm,  he  said,  "There  goes  the  future  Mrs.  John  Jr. 
— so  mother  thinks !  " 

"Where?  "  asked  'Lena,  looking  around. 
"  Why,  there,"  continued  John,  pointing  toward  Ma 
bel.    "Haven't  you  noticed  with  what  parental  solicitude 
mother  watches  over  her  ?  " 

"  I  saw  them  together,"  answered  'Lena,  "  and  I 
thought  it  very  kind  in' my  aunt,  for  no  one  else  seemed 
to  notice  her,  and  I  felt  sorry  for  her.  She  is  going  homo 
with  us,  I  believe." 


168  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  Going  home  with  us  !  "  repeated  John  Jr.  "  In  the 
name  of  the  people,  what  is  she  going  home  with  us  for  ?  " 

"  Why,"  returned,  'Lena,  "  your  mother  thinks  the 
country  air  will  do  her  good." 

"  Cfo-doubtedly,"  said  John,  with  a  sneer.  "  Mother's 
motives  are  usually  very  disinterested.  I  wonder  she 
don't  propose  to  the  old  captain  to  take  up  his  quarters 
with  us,  so  she  can  nurse  him !  " 

With  this  state  of  feeling,  it  was  hardly  natural  that 
John  Jr.  should  be  very  polite  toward  Mabel,  and  when 
his  mother  asked  him  to  help  her  into  the  carriage,  he 
complied  so  ungraciously,  that  Mabel  observed  it,  and 
looked  wonderingly  at  her  patroness  for  an  explanation. 

"  Only  one  of  his  freaks,  love — he'll  get  over  it,"  said 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  while  poor  Mabel,  sinking  back  among 
the  cushions,  wept  silently,  thinking  that  every  body 
hated  her. 

When  'Lena  came  down  to  bid  her  host  and  hostess 
good  night,  the  former  retained  her  hand,  while  he  ex 
pressed  his  sorrow  at  her  leaving  so  soon.  "  I  meant  to 
have  seen  more  of  you,"  said  he,  "  but  you  must  visit  us 
often — will  you  not  ?  " 

Neither  the  action  nor  the  words  escaped  Mrs.  Graham's 
observation,  and  the  lecture  which  she  that  night  read 
her  offending  spouse,  had  the  effect  to  keep  him  awake 
until  the  morning  was  growing  gray  in  the  east.  Then, 
when  he  was  asleep,  he  so  far  forgot  himself  and  the 
wide-open  ears  beside  him  as  actually  to  breathe  the  name 
of  ''Lena  in  his  dreams ! 

Mrs.  Graham  needed  no  farther  confirmation  of  her 
suspicions,  and  at  the  breakfast  table  next  morning,  she 
gave  her  son  a  lengthened  account  of  her  husband's  great 
sin  in  dreaming  of  a  young  girl,  and  that  girl  'Lena  Riv 
ers.  Durward  laughed  heartily,  and  then,  either  to  tease 


MABEL.  169 

his  mother,  or  to  make  his  father's  guilt  less  heinous  in 
her  eyes,  he  replied,  "It  is  a  little  singular  that  oui 
minds  should  run  in  the  same  channel,  for  I,  too,  dreamed 
of 'Lena  Rivers!" 

Poor  Mrs.  Graham.  A  double  task  was  now  imposed 
upon  her— that  of  watching  both  husband  and  son ;  but 
she  was  accustomed  to  it,  for  her  life,  since  her  second  mar 
riage,  had  been  one  continued  series  of  watching  for  evil 
where  there  was  none.^  And  now,  with  a  growing  hatred 
toward  'Lena,  she  determined  to  increase  her  vigilance, 
feeling  sure  she  should  discover  something  if  she  only 
continued  faithful  to  the  end. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

MABEL. 

THE  morning  following  the  party,  Mr.  Livingstone's 
family  were  assembled  in  the  parlor,  discussing  the  vari 
ous  events  of  the  previous  night.  John  Jr.,  'Lena,  and 
Anna  declared  themselves  to  have  been  highly  pleased 
with  everything,  while  Carrie,  in  the  worst  of  humors, 
pronounced  it  "a  perfect  bore,"  saying  she  never  had  so 
disagreeable  a  time  in  all  her  life,  and  ending  her  ill- 
natured  remarks  by  a  malicious  thrust  at  'Lena,  for  having 
so  long  kept  Mr.  Bellmont  at  her  side. 

"I  suppose  you  fancy  he  would  have  looked  better 
with  you,  but  I  think  he  showed  his  good  taste  by  pre 
ferring  'Lena,"  said  John  Jr.;  then  turning  toward  the 
large  easy  chair,  where  Mabel  sat,  pale,  weary,  and  spir 
itless,  he  asked  "  how  she  had  enjoyed  herself." 

With  the  exception  of  his  accustomed  "  good  morning," 
H 


170  'LENA   RIVERS. 

this  was  the  first  time  he  had  that  day  addressed  her,  and 
it  was  so  unexpected,  that  it  brought  a  bright  glow  to  her 
cheek,  making  John  Jr.  tliink  she  was  "  not  so  horridly 
ugly  after  all." 

But  she  was  very  unfortunate  in  her  answer,  which  was, 
"that  on  account  of  her  ill  health,  she  seldom  enjoyed 
anything  of  the  kind."  Then  pressing  her  hand  upon  her 
forehead,  she  continued,  «  My  head  is  aching  dreadfully, 
as  a  punishment  for  last  night's  dissipation." 

Three  times  before,  he  had  heard  her  speak  of  her  ach 
ing  head,  and  now,  with  an  impatient  gesture,  he  was 
turning  away,  when  his  mother  said,  "Poor  girl,  she  re 
ally  looks  miserable.  I  think  a  ride  would  do  her  good. 
Suppose  you  take  her  with  you— I  heard  you  say  you 
were  going  to  Versailles." 

If  there  was  anything  in  which  Mabel  excelled,  it  was 
horsemanship,  she  being  a  better  rider,  if  possible,  than 
'Lena,  and  now,  at  Mrs.  Livingstone's  proposition,  she 
looked  up  eagerly  at  John  Jr.,  who  replied, 

"Oh, hang  it  all!  mother,  I  can't  always  be  bothered 
with  a  'girl  •»  then  as  he  saw  how  Mabel's  countenance 
fell,  he  continued,  "Let  'Lena  ride  with  her— she  wants 
to,  I  know." 

"  Certainly,"  said  'Lena,  whose  heart  warmed  toward 
the  orphan  girl,  partly  because  she  was  an  orphan,  and 
partly  because  she  saw  that  she  was  neglected  and  un 
loved. 

As  yet  Mabel  cared  nothing  for  John  Jr.,  nor  even  sus 
pected  his  mother's  object  in  detaining  her  as  a  guest. 
So  when  'Lena  was  proposed  as  a  substitute,  she  seemed 
equally  well  pleased,  and  the  young  man,  as  he  walked 
off  to  order  the  ponies,  mentally  termed  himself  a  bear 
for  his  rudeness  ;  «  for  after  all,"  thought  he,  «  it's  moth- 


MABEL.  17] 

er  who  has  designs  upon  me,  not  Mabel.     She  isn't  to 
blame." 

This  opinion  once  satisfactorily  settled,  it  was  strange 
how  soon  John  Jr.  began  to  be  sociable  with  Mabel,  find- 
ing  her  much  more  agreeable  than  he  had  at  first  sup 
posed,  and  even  acknowledging  to  'Lena  that  "  she  was  a 
good  deal  of  a  girl,  after  all,  were  it  not  for  her  everlast 
ing  headaches  and  the  smell  of  medicine,"  which  he  de 
clared  she  always  carried  about  with  her. 

"  Hush-sh,"  said  'Lena — "  you  snan't  talk  so,  for  she  is 
sick  a  great  deal,  and  she  does  not  feign  it,  either." 

"Perhaps  not,"  returned  John  Jr.,  "but  she  can  at 
least  keep  her  miserable  feelings  to  herself.  Nobody 
wants  to  know  how  many  times  she's  been  blistered  and 
bled!" 

Still  John  Jr.  acknowledged  that  there  were  some 
things  in  Mabel  which  he  liked,  for  no  one  could  live  long 
with  her  and  not  admire  her  gentleness  and  uncommon 
sweetness  of  disposition,  which  manifested  itself  in  numer 
ous  little  acts  of  kindness  to  those  around  her.  Never 
before  in  her  life  had  she  been  so  constantly  associated 
with  a  young  gentleman,  and  as  she  was  quite  suscepti 
ble,  it  is  hardly  more  than  natural  that  erelong  thoughts 
of  John  Jr.  mingled  in  both  her  sleeping  and  waking 
dreams.  She  could  not  understand  him,  but  the  more 
his  changeful  moods  puzzled  her,  the  more  she  felt  inter 
ested  in  him,  and  her  eyes  would  alternately  sparkle  at  a 
kind  word  from  him,  or  fill  with  tears  at  the  abruptness 
of  his  speeches ;  while  he  seemed  to  take  special  delight 
in  seeing  how  easily  he  could  move  her  from  one  extreme 
to  the  other. 

Silently  Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  on,  carefully  noting 
each  change,  and  warily  calculating  its  result.  Not  once 
since  Mabel  became  an  inmate  of  her  family  had  she  men- 


J72  'LENA  RIVERS. 

tioned  her  to  her  son,  for  she  deemed  it  best  to  wait,  and 
let  matters  take  their  course.  But  at  last,  anxious  1 3 
know  his  real  opinion,  she  determined  to  sound  him. 
Accordingly,  one  day  when  they  were  alone,  she  spoke 
of  Mabel,  asking  him  if  he  did  not  think  she  improved 
upon  acquaintance,  at  the  same  time  enumerating  her 
many  excellent  qualities,  and  saying  that  whoever  married 
her  would  get  a  prize,  to  say  nothing  of  a  fortune. 

Quickly  comprehending  the  drift  of  her  remarks,  John 
Jr.  replied,  "  I  dare  say,  and  whoever  wishes  for  both 
prize  and  fortune,  is  welcome  to  them  for  all  me." 

"I  thouo-ht  you  liked  Mabel,"  said  his  mother ;  and 
John  answered,  «  So  I  do  like  her,  but  for  pity's  sake,  is 
a  man  obliged  to  marry  every  girl  he  likes  ?  Mabel  does 
very  well  to  tease  and  amuse  one,  but  when  you  come  to 
the  marrying  part,  why,  that's  another  thing." 

"And  what  objection  have  you  to  her,"  continued 
mother,  growing  very  fidgety  and  red. 

"Several,"  returned  John.  "She  has  altogether  too 
many  aches  and  pains  to  suit  me  ;  then  she  has  no  spirit 
whatever;  and  last,  but  not  least,  I  like  somebody  else 
So,  mother  mine,  you  may  as  well  give  up  all  hopes 
that  hundred  thousand  down  in  Alabama,  for  I  shall  never 
marry  Mabel  Ross,  never." 

Mrs  Livingstone  was  now  not  only  red  and   idgcty, 
but  very  angry,  and,  in  an  elevated  tone  of  voice    she 
said,  "I  s'pose  it's  Nellie  Douglass  you  mean  ;  but  if  yoi 
knew  all  of  her  that  I  do,  I  reckon- 
Here  she  paused,  insinuating  that  she  could  tell  some- 
thin-  dreadful,  if  she  would !     But  John  Jr.  took  no  no 
tice  of  her  hints,  and  when  he  got  a  chance,  he  replied 
"You  are  quite  a  Yankee  at  guessing,  for  if  Nellie  will 
have  me,  I  surely  will  have  her." 

«  Marry  her,  then,"  retorted  his  mother— "  marry  her, 


MABEL.  173 

witt  dll  her  poverty,  but  for  heaven's  sake,  don't  give  so 
much  encouragement  to  a  poor  defenseless  girl." 

Wishing  Mabel  in  Guinea,  and  declaring  he'd  neither 
speak  to  nor  look  at  her  again,  if  common  civilities  were 
construed  into  encouragement,  John  Jr.  strode  out  of  the 
room,  determining,  as  the  surest  method  of  ending  the 
trouble,  to  go  forthwith  to  Nellie,  and  in  a  plain,  straight 
forward  way  make  her  an  offer  of  himself.  With  him,  to 
will  was  to  do,  and  in  about  an  hour  he  was  descending 
the  long  hill  which  leads  into  Frankfort.  Unfortunately, 
Nellie  had  gone  for  a  few  weeks  to  Madison,  and  again 
mounting  Firelock,  the  young  man  galloped  back,  reach 
ing  home  just  as  the  family  were  sitting  down  to  supper. 
Not  feeling  hungry,  and  wishing  to  avoid,  as  long  as  pos 
sible,  the  sight  of  his  mother  and  Mabel,  whom  he  be 
lieved  were  leagued  against  him,  he  repaired  to  the  par 
lor,  whistling  loudly,  and  making  much  more. noise  than 
was  at  all  necessary. 

"  If  you  please,  Mr.  Livingstone,  won't  you  be  a  little 
more  quiet,  for  my  head  aches  so  hard  to-night,"  said  a 
languid  voice,  from  the  depths  of  the  huge  easy  chair 
which  stood  before  the  glowing  grate. 

Glancing  toward  what  he  had  at  first  supposed  to  be  a 
bundle  of  shawls,  John  Jr.  saw  Mabel  Ross,  her  forehead 
bandaged  up  and  her  lips  white  as  ashes,  while  the  purple 
rings  about  her  heavy  eyes,  told  of  the  pain  she  was  en 
during. 

"Thunder!"  was  John's  exclamation,  as  he  strode 
from  the  room,  slamming  together  the  door  with  unusual 
force. 

When  Mrs.  Livingstone  came  in  from  supper,  with  a 
cup  of  hot  tea  and  a  slice  of  toast  for  Mabel,  she  was  sur- 
prised  to  find  her  sobbing  like  a  child.  It  did  not  take 
long  for  her  to  learn  the  cause,  and  then,  as  well  as  sho 


1*4  'LENA    RTYEHS. 

could,  she  soothed  her,  telling  her  not  to  mind  John's 
freaks — it  was  his  way,  and  he  always  had  a  particu 
lar  aversion  to  sick  people,  never  liking  to  hear  them 
talk  of  their  ailments.  This  hint  was  sufficient  for  Mabel, 
who  ever  after  strove  hard  to  appear  well  and  cheerful 
in  his  presence.  But  in  no  way,  if  he  could  help  it,  would 
he  notice  her. 

Next  to  Mrs.  Livingstone,  'Lena  was  Mabel's  best 
friend,  and  when  she  saw  how  much  her  cousin's  rudeness 
and  indifference  pained  her,  she  determined  to  talk  with 
him  about  it.  So  the  first  time  they  were  alone,  she 
broached  the  subject,  speaking  very  kindly  of  Mabel,  and 
asking  if  he  had  any  well-grounded  reason  for  his  uncivil 
treatment  of  her.  There  was  no  person  in  the  world  who 
possessed  so  much  influence  over  John  Jr.  as  did  'Lena, 
and  now,  hearing  her  patiently  through,  he  replied,  "  I 
know  I'm  impolite  to  Mabel,  but  hang  me  if  I  can  help  it. 
She  is  so  flat  and  silly,  and  takes  every  little  attention 
from  me  as  a  declaration  of  love.  Still,  I  don't  blame  her 
as  much  as  I  do  mother,  who  is  putting  her  up  to  it,  and 
if  she'd  only  go  home  and  mind  her  own  business,  I 
should  like  her  well  enough." 

"  I  don't  understand  you,"  said  'Lena,  and  her  cousin 
continued:  "Why,  when  Mabel  first  came  here,  I  do 
not  think  she  knew  what  mother  was  fishing  for,  so  she 
was  not  so  much  at  fault,  but  she  does  now — " 

"Are  you  sure?"  interrupted  'Lena,  and  John  Jr.  re 
plied,  "  She's  a  confounded  fool  if  she  don't.  And  what 
provokes  me,  is  to  think  she'll  still  keep  staying  here, 
when  modesty,  if  nothing  else,  should  prompt  her  to 
leave.  You  wouldn't  catch  Nellie  doing  so.  Why,  she'll 
hardly  come  here  at  all,  for  fear  folks  will  say  she  comes 
4o  see  rne,  and  that's  why  I  like  her  so  well." 

" 1  think  you  are  mistaken  with  regard  to  Mabel,"  said 


MABEL.  175 

Lena,  "  for  I've  no  idea  she's  in  love  with  yon  a  bit  more 
Jian  I  am.  I  dare  say  she  likes  you  well  enough,  for 
there's  nothing  in  you  to  dislike." 

"  Thank  you,"  interrupted  John  Jr.,  returning  the  com 
pliment  with  a  kiss,  a  liberty  he  often  took  with  her. 

"  Behave,  can't  you  ?  "  said  'Lena,  at  the  same  time  con 
tinuing' — "  No,  I  don't  suppose  Mabel  is  dying  for  you  at 
all.  All  of  us  girls  like  to  receive  attention  from  you 
gentlemen,  and  she's  not  an  exception.  Besides  that,  you 
ought  to  be  polite  to  her,  because  she's  your  mother's 
guest,  if  for  nothing  else.  I  don't  ask  you  to  love  her," 
said  she,  "  but  I  do  ask  you  to  treat  her  well.  Kind 
words  cost  nothing,  and  they  go  far  toward  making  oth 
ers  happy." 

u  So  they  do,"  answered  John,  upon  whom  'Lena's  words 
were  having  a  good  effect.  "I,ve  nothing  under  heaven 
against  Mabel  Ross,  except  that  mother  wants  me  to 
marry  her ;  but  if  you'll  warrant  me  that  the  young  lady 
herself  has  no  such  intentions,  why,  I'll  do  my  very  best." 

"  I'll  warrant  'you,"  returned  Lena,  who  really  had  no 
idea  that  Mabel  cared  aught  in  particular  for  her  cousin, 
and  satisfied  with  the  result  of  her  interview,  she  started 
to  leave  the  room. 

As  she  reached  the  door,  John  Jr.  stopped  her,  saying, 
"  You  are  sure  she  don't  care  for  me  ?  " 

"  Perfectly  sure,"  was  'Lena's  answer. 

"  The  plague,  she  don't,"  thought  John,  as  the  door 
closed  upon  'Lena ;  and  such  is  human  nature,  that  the 
young  man  began  to  think  that  if  Mabel  didn't  care  for 
him,  he'd  see  if  he  could'nt  make  her,  for  after  all, 
there  was  something  pleasant  in  being  liked,  even  by 
Mabel  1 

The  next  day,  as  the  young  ladies  were  sitting  together 
io  the  parlor,  John  Jr.  joined  them,  and  after  wringing 


176  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Carrie's  nose,  pulling  'Lena's  and  Anna's  curls,  he  sud 
denly  upset  Mabel's  work-box,  at  the  same  time  slily 
whispering  to  his  cousin,  "  Ain't  I  coming  round  ?  " 

Abrupt  as  this  proceeding  was,  it  pleased  Mabel,  who, 
with  the  utmost  good  humor,  commenced  picking  up  he* 
things,  John  Jr.  assisting  her,  and  managing  once  to  bump 
his  head  against  hers !  After  this,  affairs  at  Maple  Grove 
glided  on  as  smoothly  as  even  Mrs.  Livingstone  could  wish. 
John  and  Mabel  were  apparently  on  the  most  amicable 
terms,  he  deeming  'Lena's  approbation  a  sufficient  reward 
for  the  many  little  attentions  which  he  paid  to  Mabel,  and 
she,  knowing  nothing  of  all  that  had  passed,  drinking  in 
his  every  word  and  look,  learning  to  live  upon  his  smile, 
and  conforming  herself,  as  far  as  possible,  to  what  she 
thought  would  best  please  him. 

Gradually,  as  she  thought  it  would  do,  Mrs.  Living 
stone  unfolded  to  Mabel  her  own  wishes,  saying  she 
should  be  perfectly  happy  could  she  only  call  her  "  daugh 
ter,"  and  hinting  that  such  a  thing  "  by  wise  management 
could  easily  be  brought  about."  With  a  gush  of  tears 
the  orphan  girl  laid  her  head  in  Mrs.  Livingstone's  lap, 
mentally  blessing  her  as  her  benefactress,  and  thanking 
the  Giver  of  all  good  for  the  light  and  happiness  which 
she  saw  dawning  upon  her  pathway. 

"  John  is  peculiar,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "  and  if  he 
fancied  you  liked  him  very  much,  it  might  not  please  him 
as  well  as  indifference  on  your  part." 

So,  with  this  lesson,  Mabel  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
attempted  to  act  as  she  did  not  feel,  feigning  carelessness 
or  indifference  when  every  pulse  of  her  heart  was  throb 
bing  with  joy  at  some  little  attention  paid  her  by  John 
Jj.,  who  could  be  very  agreeable  when  he  chose,  and 
who,  observing  her  apparent  indifference,  began  to  think 
that  what  'Lena  had  said  was  true,  and  that  Mabel  really 


MABEL,  177 

cared  nothing  for  him.  With  this  impression  he  exerted 
himself  to  be  agreeable,  wondering  how  her  many  good 
qualities  had  so  long  escaped  his  observation. 

"  There  is  more  to  her  than  I  supposed,"  said  he  one 
day  to  'Lena,  who  was  commending  him  for  his  improved 
manner.  "  Yes,  a  heap  more  than  I  supposed.  Why, 
I  really  like  her !  " 

And  he  told  the  truth,  for  with  his  prejudice  laid 
aside,  he,  as  is  often  the  case,  began  to  find  virtues  in  her, 
the  existence  of  which  he  had  never  suspected.  Fre 
quently,  now,  he  talked,  laughed,  and  rode  with  her,  prais 
ing  her  horsemanship,  pointing  out  some  points  wherein 
it  might  be  improved,  and  never  dreaming  the  while  of 
the  deep  affection  his  conduct  had  awakened  in  the  sus 
ceptible  girl. 

"  Oh,  I  am  so  happy,"  said  she  one  day  to  'Lena,  who 
was  speaking  of  her  improved  health.  "  I  never  thought 
it  possible  for  me  to  be  so  happy.  I  dreaded  to  come 
here  at  first,  but  now  I  shall  never  regret  it,  never." 

She  was  standing  before  the  long  mirror  in  the  parlor, 
adjusting  the  feathers  to  her  tasteful  velvet  cap,  which, 
with  her  neatly  fitting  riding-dress,  became  her  better 
than  anything  else.  The  excitement  of  her  words  sent  a 
deep  glow  to  her  cheek,  while  her  large  black  eyes 
sparkled  with  unusual  brilliancy.  She  was  going  out 
with  John  Jr.,  who,  just  as  she  finished  speaking,  ap 
peared  in  the  doorway,  and  catching  a  glimpse  of  her 
face,  exclaimed  in  his  blunt,  jocose  way,  "  Upon  my  word, 
Meb,  if  you  keep  on,  you'll  get  to  be  quite  decent  look 
ing  in  time." 

'Twas  the  first  compliment  of  the  kind  he  had  -  -f  JP 
p;;id  her,  and  questionable  as  it  was,  it  tended  to  etre  tglb- 
eri  her  fast  forming  belief  that  her  affection  foi 
returned. 

H*  12 


178  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  I  can't  expect  him  to  do  anything  like  other  people, 
be's  so  odd,"  thought  she,  and  yet  it  was  this  very  odd- 
ness  which  charmed  her. 

At  length  Nellie,  who  had  returned  from  Madison, 
and  felt  rather  lonely,  wrote  to  Mabel,  asking  her  to 
come  home.  This  plan  Mrs.  Livingstone  opposed,  but 
Mabel  was  decided,  and  the  week  before  Christmas  was 
fixed  upon  for  her  departure.  John  Jr.,  anxious  to  see 
Nellie,  proposed  accompanying  her,  but  when  the  day 
came  he  was  suffering  from  a  severe  cold,  which  rendered 
his  stay  in  the  house  absolutely  necessary.  So  his  moth 
er,  who  had  reasons  of  her  own  for  doing  so,  went  in  his 
stead.  Carrie,  who  never  had  any  fancy  for  Mabel,  and 
only  endured  her  because  she  was  rich,  was  coolly  polite, 
merely  offering  her  hand,  and  then  resumed  the  novel 
she  was  reading,  even  before  Mabel  had  left.  Anna  and 
'Lena  bade  her  a  more  affectionate  adieu,  and  then  ad 
vancing  toward  John  Jr.,  who,  in  dressing-gown  and 
slippers,  reclined  upon  the  sofa,  she  offered  him  her 
hand. 

As  if  to  atone  for  his  former  acts  of  rudeness,  the  young 
man  accompanied  her  to  the  door,  playfully  claiming  the 
privilege  of  taking  leave  just  as  his  sister  and  cousin  had 
done. 

"  It's  only  me,  you  know,"  said  he,  imprinting  upon 
oer  forehead  a  kiss  which  sent  the  rich  blood  to  her  neck 
<md  face. 

John  Jr.  would  not  have  dared  to  take  that  liberty  with 
Nellie,  while  Mabel,  simple-hearted,  and  wholly  unused  to 
{he  world,  saw  in  it  a  world  of  meaning,  and  for  a  long 
time  after  the  carriage  rolled  away  from  Maple  Grove, 
the  bright  glow  on  her  cheek  told  of  happy  thoughts 
within. 

"  Did  my  son  say  anything  definite  to  you  before  you 


JSELLIE  AND  MABEL.  179 

left?"  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone,  as  they  came  within  sight 
of  the  city. 

"  No,  madam,"  answered  Mabel,  and  Mrs.  Livingstone 
continued,  "That's  strange.  He  confessed  to  me  that 
he — ah — he — loved  you,  and  I  supposed  he  intended  tell 
ing  you  so ;  but  bashfulness  prevented,  I  dare  say !  " 

Accustomed  as  she  was  to  equivocation,  this  downright 
falsehood  cost  Mrs.  Livingstone  quite  an  effort,  but  she 
fancied  the  case  required  it,  and  after  a  few  twinges,  her 
conscience  felt  easy,  particularly  when  she  saw  how  much 
satisfaction  her  words  gave  to  her  companion,  to  whom 
the  improbability  of  the  affair  never  occurred.  Could 
she  have  known  how  lightly  John  Jr.  treated  the  matter, 
laughingly  describing  his  leave-taking  to  his  sisters  and 
'Lena,  and  saying,  "  Meb  wasn't  the  worst  girl  in  the 
world,  after  all,"  she  might  not  have  been  so  easily 
duped. 

But  she  did  not  know  all  this,  and  thus  was  the  delu 
sion  perfect. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

NELLIE     AND     MABEL. 

NELLIE  DOUGLASS  sat  alone  in  her  chamber,  which 
was  filled  with  articles  of  elegance  and  luxury,  for  her 
father,  though  far  from  being  wealthy,  still  loved  to  sur 
round  his  only  daughter  with  everything  which  could  in 
crease  her  comfort.  So  the  best,  the  fairest,  and  the 
most  costly  was  always  for  her,  his  "  darling  Nellie,"  as 
h<?  called  her,  when  with  bounding  footsteps  she  flew  to 


ISO  'LENA  RIVERS. 

greet  him  on  his  return  at  night,  ministering  to  his  wants 
in  a  thousand  \vays,  and  shedding  over  his  home  such  a 
halo  of  sunshine  that  ofttimes  he  forgot  that  he  was  a 
lonely  widower,  while  in  the  features  of  his  precious  child 
he  saw  again  the  wife  of  his  bosom,  who  years  before  had 
passed  from  his  side  forever. 

But  not  on  him  were  Nellie's  thoughts  resting,  as  she 
sat  there  alone  that  afternoon.  She  was  thinking  of  the 
past — of  John  Livingstone,  and  the  many  marked  at 
tentions,  which  needed  not  the  expression  of  words  to 
tell  her  she  was  beloved.  And  freely  did  her  heart  re 
spond.  That  John  Jr.  was  not  perfect,  she  knew,  but 
he  was  noble  and  generous,  and  so  easily  influenced  by 
those  he  loved,  that  she  knew  it  would  be  an  easy  task  to 
soften  down  some  of  the  rougher  shades  of  his  character. 
Three  times  during  her  absence  had  he  called,  expressing 
so  much  disappointment,  that  with  woman's  ready  in 
stinct  she  more  than  half  divined  his  intentions,  and  re 
gretted  that  she  was  gone.  But  Mabel  was  coming  to 
day,  and  he  was  to  accompany  her,  for  so  had  'Lena 
written,  and  Nellie's  cheeks  glowed  and  her  heart  beat 
high,  as  she  thought  of  what  might  occur.  She  knew 
well  that  in  point  of  wealth  she  was  not  his  equal,  for 
though  mingling  with  the  first  hi  the  city,  her  father  was 
poor — but  one  of  John  Jr.'s  nature  would  never  take 
that  into  consideration.  They  had  known  each  other 
from  childhood,  and  he  had  always  evinced  for  her  the 
same  preference  which  he  now  manifested.  Several 
weeks  had  elapsed  since  she  had  seen  him,  and  now,  rath 
er  impatiently,  she  awaited  his  arrival. 

"  If  you  please,  ma'am,  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Miss  Ma 
bel  are  in  the  parlor,"  said  a  servant,  suddenly  appearing 
and  interrupting  her  reverie. 

"  Mrs.  Livingstone !  "  she  repeated,  as  she  glanced  at 


NELLIE  AND  MABEL.  181 

herself  in  a  mirror,  and  rearranged  one  side  of  her  shiiiino 
hair,  "Mrs.  Livingstone  !—  and  so  he  has  not  come  I 
wonder  what's  the  matter!  »  and  with  a  less  joyous  face 
8he  descended  to  the  back  parlor,  where,  with  rich  furs 
wrapped  closely  about  her,  as  if  half  frozen,  sat  Mr?  Liv 
ingstone,  her  quick  eye  taking  an  inventory  of  every  ar 
ticle  of  furniture,  and  her  proud  spirit  whispering  to  her 
self,  "  Poverty,  poverty." 

With  a  cry  of  joy,  Mabel  flew  to  meet  Nellie,  who 
while  welcoming  her  back,  congratulated  her  upon  her 
improved  health  and  looks,  saying,  "theofr  of  Maple 
Grove  must  have  agreed  with  her  ;»  then  turning  toward 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  saw  in  her  remark  other  meaning 
than  the  one  she  intended,  she  asked  her  to  remove  her 
wrappings,  apologizing  at  the  same  time  for  the  fire's  be 
ing  so  low. 

"  Father  is  absent  most  of  the  day,"  said  she,  «  and  as 
I  am  much  m  my  chamber,  we  seldom  keep  a  fire  in  the 
front  parlor. 

"Just  as  well,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  removing 
her  heavy  fur,  "One  fire  is  cheaper  than  two,  and  in 

suppose  *  is  necessaiT  for 


Nellie  colored,  not  so  much  at  the  words  as  at  the  man- 
ner  of  her  visitor.  After  a  moment,  Mrs/Livingstone 
again  spoke,  looking  straight  in  Nellie's  face 

bJ  ff  7  Tf  ^^  anXi°US  t0  ride  **'•**&  Mabel, 
but  a  bad  cold  prevented  him,  so  she  rather  unwilling 
took  me  as  a  substitute."  &  J 

latteTf^01117  Nd'ie'  bnt  Mabel>  «!*>,  colored,  and  the 

oon    h         -T"1'    WheD  She  ^  g°ne'  N<-"Iie  ™-Aod 
upon  the  visible  improvement  in  her  health. 

"Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  setting  herself  a  little 
more  ea81,  v  in,ler  cLair,  "  Yes,  Mabe,  is  jt  the  tnTe  cret 


132  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

frure  she  was  when  she  came  to  us,  but  then  it's  no  won 
der,  for  love,  you  know,  will  work  miracles." 

No  answer  from  Nellie,  who  almost  instinctively  felt 
what  was  coming  next. 

"  Upon  my  word,  Miss  Douglass,  you've  no  curiosity 
whatever.  Why  don't  you  ask  with  whom  Mabel  is  in 
love  ?  " 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  laughingly  asked  Nellie,  nervously  play 
ing  with  the  tassel  of  her  blue  silk  apron. 

After  a  moment,  Mrs.  Livingstone  replied,  "It  may 
seem  out  of  place  for  me  to  speak  of  it,  but  I  know  you, 
Miss  Douglass,  for  a  girl  of  excellent  sense,  and  feel  sure 
you  will  not  betray  me  to  either  party." 

"Certainly  not,"  answered  Nellie,  rather  haughtily, 
while  her  tormentor  continued:  "Well,  then,  it  is  my 
son,  and  I  assure  you,  both  myself  and  husband  are  well 
pleased  that  it  should  be  so.  From  the  moment  I  first 
saw  Mabel,  I  felt  for  her  a  motherly  affection  for  which  I 
could  not  account,  and  if  I  were  now  to  select  my  future 
daughter-in-law,  I  should  prefer  her  to  all  others." 

Here  ensued  a  pause  which  Nellie  felt  no  inclination  to 
break,  and  again  Mrs.  Livingstone  spoke :  "  It  may  be  a 
weakness,  but  I  have  always  felt  anxious  that  John  should 
make  a  match  every  way  worthy  of  him,  both  as  to 
wealth  and  station.  Indeed,  I  would  hardly  be  willing 
for  him  to  marry  one  whose  fortune  is  less  than  Mabel's. 
But  I  need  have  no  fears,  for  John  has  his  own  views  on 
that  subject,  and  though  he  may  sometimes  be  attentive 
to  girls  far  beneath  him,  he  is  pretty  sure  in  the  end  to 
do  as  I  think  best !  " 

Poor  Nellie!  How  every  word  sank  into  her  soul, 
torturing  her  almost  to  madness.  She  did  not  stop  to 
consider  the  improbability  of  what  she  heard.  Naturally 
Impulsive  and  excitable,  she  believed  it  all,  for  if  John 


NELLIE  AND  MABEL,  183 

Jr.  really  loved  her,  as  once  she  had  fondly  believed,  had 
there  not  been  a  thousand  opportunities  for  him  to  tell 
her  so  ?  At  this  moment  Mabel  reentered  the  parlor,  and 
Nellie,  on  the  plea  of  seeing  to  the  dinner,  left  the  room, 
going  she  scarce  knew  whither,  until  she  found  herself  in 
a  little  arbor  at  the  foot  of  the  garden,  where  many  and 
many  a  time  John  Jr.  had  sat  with  her,  and  where  he 
would  never  sit  again— so  she  thought,  so  she  believed— 
and  throwing  herself  upon  one  of  the  seats,  she  struggled 
hard  to  school  herself  to  meet  the  worst — to  conquer  the 
bitter  resentment  which  she  felt  rising  within  her  toward 
Mabel,  who  had  supplanted  her  in  the  affections  of  the 
only  one  she  had  ever  loved. 

Nellie  had  a  noble,  generous  nature,  and  after  a  few 
moments  of  calmer  reflection,  she  rose  up,  strengthened 
in  her  purpose  of  never  suffering  Mabel  to  know  how 
deeply  she  had  wronged  her.  "  She  is  an  orphan— a  lone 
ly  orphan,"  thought  she,  "  and  God  forbid  that  through 
me  one  drop  of  bitterness  should  mingle  in  her  cup  of 

joy.'; 

With  a  firm  step  she  walked  to  the  kitchen,  gave  some 
additional  orders  concerning  the  dinner,  and  then  re 
turned  to  the  parlor,  half  shuddering  when  Mabel  came 
near  her,  and  then  with  a  strong  effort  pressing  the  little 
blue-veined  hand  laid  so  confidingly  upon  her  own. 
Dinner  being  over,  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  had  some  oth 
er  calls  to  make,  took  her  leave,  bidding  a  most  affec 
tionate  adieu  to  Mabel,  who  clung  to  her  as  if  she  had 
indeed  been  her  mother. 

"  Good-by,  darling  Meb,"  said  she.  « I  shall  come  for  you 
to  visit  us  erelong."  Turning  to  Nellie,  she  said,  «  Do 
take  care  of  her  health,  which  you  know  is  now  precious 
to  more  than  one;"  then  in  a  whisper  she  added,  "Re* 
member  that  what  I  have  told  you  is  sacred." 


184  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Tlie  next  moment  she  was  gone,  and  mechanical^ 
Nellie  returned  to  the  parlor,  together  with  Mabel,  whoso 
unusual  buoyancy  of  spirits  contrasted  painfully  with  the 
silence  and  sadness  which  lay  around  her  heart.  That 
night,  Mr.  Douglass  had  some  business  in  the  city,  and 
the  two  girls  were  left  alone.  The  lamps  were  unlighted, 
for  the  full  golden  moonlight,  which  streamed  through  the 
window-panes,  suited  better  the  mood  of  Nellie,  who, 
leaning  upon  the  arm  of  the  sofa,  looked  listlessly  out 
upon  the  deep  beauty  of  the  night.  Upon  a  little  stool  at 
her  feet,  sat  Mabel,  her  head  resting  on  Nellie's  lap,  and 
her  hand  searching  in  vain  for  another,  which  involunta 
rily  moved  farther  and  farther  away,  as  hers  advanced. 

At  length  she  spoke :  "  Nellie,  dear  Nellie— there  is 
something  I  want  so  much  to  tell  you— if  you  will  hear 
it,  and  not  think  me  foolish." 

With  a  strong  effort,  the  hand  which  had  crept  away 
under  the  sofa-cushion,  came  back  from  its  hiding-place, 
and  rested  upon  Mabel's  brow,  while  Nellie's  voice  an 
swered,  softly  and  slow,  "  What  is  it,  Mabel  ?  I  will  hear 
you." 

Briefly,  then,  Mabel  told  the  story  of  her  short  life,  be- 
ginning  at  the  time  when  a  frowning  nurse  tore  her 
away  from  her  dead  motner,  chiding  her  for  her  tears,  and 
threatening  her  with  punishment  if  she  did  not  desist. 
"  Since  then,"  said  she,  "  I  have  been  so  lonely — how 
lonely,  none  but  a  friendless  orphan  can  know.  No  one 
has  ever  loved  me,  or  if  for  a  time  they  seemed  to,  they 
soon  grew  weary  of  me,  and  left  me  ten  times  more 
wretched  than  before.  I  never  once  dreamed  that — that 
Mr.  Livingstone  could  care  aught  for  one  so  ugly  as  I 
know  I  arn.  I  thought  him  better  suited  for  you,  Nellie. 
(How  cold  your  hand  is,  but  don't  take  it  away,  for  i> 
cools  my  forehead.") 


NELLIE  AND  MABEL.  185 

The  icy  hand  was  not  withdrawn,  and  Mabel  continued  • 
"  Yes,  I  think  him  better  suited  to  you,  and  when  his 
mother  told  me  that  he  loved  me,  and  that  he  would,  un 
doubtedly,  one  day  make  me  his  wife,  it  was  almost  too 
much  for  me  to  believe,  but  it  makes  me  so  happy — oh,  so 
happy." 

"And  he — he,  too,  told  you  that  he  loved  you?"  said 
Nellie,  very  low,  holding  her  breath  for  the  answer. 

"  Oh,  no — he  never  told  me  in  words.  'Twas  his  mother 
that  told  me — he  only  acted!" 

"  And  what  did  he  do  ? '  asked  Nellie,  smiling  in  spite 
of  herself,  at  the  simplicity  of  Mabel,  who,  without  any 
intention  of  exaggerating,  proceeded  to  tell  what  John 
Jr.  had  said  and  done,  magnifying  every  attention,  until 
Nellie,  blinded  as  she  was  by  what  his  mother  had  said*,  was 
convinced  that,  at  all  events,  he  was  not  true  to  herself. 
To  be  sure,  he  had  never  told  her  he  loved  her  in  words ; 
but  in  actions  he  had  said  it  many  a  time,  and  if  he  could 
do  the  same  with  Mabel,  he  must  be  false  either  to  one  or 
the  other.  Always  frank  and  open-hearted  herself,  Nellie 
despised  anything  like  deception  in  others,  and  the  high 
opinion  she  had  once  entertained  for  John  Jr.,  was  now 
greatly  changed. 

Still,  reason  as  she  would,  Nellie  could  not  forget  so 
easily,  and  the  hour  of  midnight  found  her  restless  and 
wakeful.  At  length,  rising  up  and  leaning  upon  her  el 
bow,  she  looked  down  upon  the  face  of  Mabel,  who  lay 
sleeping  sweetly  at  her  side.  Many  and  bitter  were  her 
thoughts,  and  as  she  looked  upon  her  rival,  marking  her 
plain  features  and  sallow  skin,  an  expression  of  scorn  flit 
ted  for  an  instant  across  her  face. 

"And  she  is  preferred  to  me!"  said  she.  "Well,  let 
it  be  so,  and  God  grant  I  may  not  hate  her." 


186  'LENA  RIVERS. 


Erelong,  better  feelings  came  to  her  aid,  and  with  he* 
arms  wound  round  Mabel's  neck,  as  if  to  ask  forgiveness 
for  her  unkind  thoughts,  she  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

MES.  LIVINGSTONE'S  CALLS  AND  THEIR  RESULT. 

AFTER  leaving  Mr.  Douglass',  Mrs.  Livingstone  ordered 
her  coachman  to  drive  her  around  to  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Atkins,  where  she  was  frequently  in  the  habit  of  stopping, 
partly  as  a  matter  of  convenience  when  visiting  in  town, 
and  partly  to  learn  the  latest  news  of  the  day,  for  Mrs.  At 
kins  was  an  intolerable  gossip.  Without  belonging  ex 
actly  to  the  higher  circles,  she  still  managed  to  keep  up  a 
show  of  intimacy  with  them,  possessing  herself  with  their 
secrets,  and  kindly  intrusting  them  to  the  keeping  of  this 
and  that  "  dear  friend." 

From  her,  had  Mrs.  Livingstone  learned  to  a  dime  the 
amount  of  Mr.  Douglass'  property,  and  how  he  was  obliged 
to  economize  in  various  ways,  in  order  to  keep  up  the  ap 
pearance  of  style.  From  her,  too,  had  she  learned  how 
often  her  son  was  in  the  habit  of  calling  there,  and  what 
rumor  said  concerning  those  calls,  while  Mrs.  Atkins  had 
learned,  in  return,  that  the  ambitious  lady  had  other  views 
for  John,  and  that  anything  which  she,  Mrs.  Atkins,  could 
do  to  further  the  plans  of  her  friend,  would  be  gratefully 
received.  On  this  occasion  she  was  at  home,  and  of  course 
delighted  to  meet  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  It  is  such  an  age  since  I've  seen  you,  that  I  began  to 
fear  you  were  offended  at  something,"  said  she,  as  she  led 


MRS.    LIVINGSTONE'S   CALLS.  187 

the  way  into  a  cozy  little  sitting-room,  where  a  cheerful 
wood  fire  was  blazing  on  the  nicely  painted  hearth.  "  Do 
sit  down  and  make  yourself  as  comfortable  as  you  can,  on 
such  poor  accommodations.  I  have  just  finished  dinner, 
but  will  order  some  for  you." 

"  No,  no,"  exclamed  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "  I  dined  at  Mr. 
Douglass' — thank  you." 

"  Ah,  indeed,"  returned  Mrs.  Atkins,  feeling  a  good  deal 
relieved,  for  to  tell  the  truth,  her  larder,  as  was  often  the 
case,  was  rather  empty.  "  Dined  at  Mr.  Douglas' !  Of 
course,  then,  nothing  which  I  could  offer  you  could  be 
acceptable,  after  one  of  his  sumptuous  meals.  I  suppose 
Nellie  brought  out  all  her  mother's  old  silver,  and  made 
quite  a  display.  It's  a  wonder  to  me  how  they  hold  their 
heads  so  high,  and  folks  notice  them  as  they  do,  for 
between  you  and  me,  I  shouldn't  be  surprised  to  hear 
of  his  failing  any  minute." 

"Is  it  possible?"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Why,  yes,"  returned  Mrs.  Atkins.  "  There's  nothing 
to  prevent  it,  they  say,  except  a  moneyed  marriage  on  the 
part  of  Nellie,  who  seems  to  be  doing  her  best." 

"  Has  she  any  particular  one  in  view  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  and  Mrs.  Atkins,  aware  of  Mrs.  Livingstone's 
aversion  to  the  match,  replied,  "  Why,  you  know  she  tried 
to  get  your  son — " 

"  But  didn't  succeed,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

'•  No,  didn't  succeed.  You  are  right.  Well,  now  it 
seems  she's  spreading  sail  for  a  Mr.  Wilbur,  of  Madison — » 

Mrs.  Livingstone's  eyes  sparkled  eagerly,  and,  not  to 
lose  one  word,  she  drew  her  chair  nearer  to  her  friend, 
who  proceeded :  "  He's  a  rich  bachelor — brother  to  Mary 
Wilbur,  Nellie's  most  intimate  friend.  You've  heard  of 
her?" 


1  b'8  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  returned  Mrs.  Livingstone.  "  Hasn't  Nek 
lie  been  visiting  her  ?  " 

"  Her  or  her  brother,"  answered  Mrs.  Atkins.  "  Mary'a 
health  is  poor,  and  you  know  its  mighty  convenient  for 
Nellie  to  go  there,  under  pretense  of  staying  with  her." 

"  Exactly,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  -with  a  satisfied 
smile,  and  another  hitch  of  her  chair  toTmrd  Mrs.  At 
kins,  who,  after  a  moment,  continued :  "  Tho  brother 
came  home  with  Nellie,  staid  over  Sunday,  rodtr  out  with 
her  Monday,  indorsed  ever  so  many  notes  for  Ler  father, 
so  1  reckon,  and  then  went  home.  If  that  don't  mean 
something,  then  I'm  mistaken  "—and  Mrs.  Atkins  ^ang 
for  a  glass  of  wine  and  a  slice  of  cake. 

After  an  hour's  confidential  talk,  in  which  Mrs.  Living 
stone  told  of  Mabel's  prospects,  and  Mrs.  Atkins  told  how 
folks  who  were  at  Mr.  Graham's  party  praised  'Lena  Riv 
ers'  beauty,  and  predicted  a  match  between  her  and  Mr. 
Bellmont,  the  former,  arose  to  go  ;  and  calling  upon  one 
or  two  others,  and  by  dint  of  quizzing  and  hinting,  get 
ting  them  to  say  "  they  shouldn't  be  surprised  if  Mr. 
Wilbur  did  like  Nellie  Douglass,"  she  started  for  home, 
exulting  to  think  how  everything  seemed  working  to 
gether  for  her  good,  and  how,  in  the  denouement^  nothing 
particular  could  be  laid  to  her  charge. 

"I  told  Nellie  no  falsehood,"  thought  she.  "I  did  not 
say  John  loved  Mabel ;  I  only  said  she  loved  him,  leaving 
all  else  for  her  to  infer.  And  it  has  commenced  opera 
ting,  too.  I  could  see  it  in  the  spots  on  her  face  and  neck, 
when  I  was  talking.  Nellie's  a  fine  girl,  though,  but  too 
poor  for  the  Livingstones  ;"  and  with  this  conclusion,  she 
told  the  coachman  to  drive  faster,  as  she  was  in  a  hurry 
to  reach  home. 

Arrived  at  Maple  Grove,  she  found  the  whole  family, 
grandma  and  all,  assembled  in  the  parlor,  and  with  them 


MRS.  LIVINGSTONE'S   CALLS.  189 

Durward  Bellmont.  Ills  arm  was  thrown  carelessly 
across  the  back  of  'Lena's  chair,  while  he  occasionally  bent 
forward  to  look  at  a  book  of  prints  which  she  was  exam 
ining.  The  sight  of  him  determined  her  to  wait  a  little, 
ere  she  retailed  her  precious  bit  of  gossip  to  her  son.  He 
was  Nellie's  cousin,  and  as  such,  would  in  all  probability 
repeat  to  her  what  he  heard.  However  communicative 
John  Jr.  might  be  in  other  respects,  she  knew  he  would 
never  discuss  his  heart-troubles  with  any  one,  so,  upon 
second  thought,  she  deemed  it  wiser  to  wait  until  they 
were  alone. 

Durward  and  'Lena,  however,  needed  watching,  and  by 
a  little  maneuvering,  she  managed  to  separate  them, 
greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  Carrie,  who  sat  upon  the  so 
fa,  one  foot  bent  under  her,  and  the  other  impatiently 
tapping  the  carpet.  From  the  moment  Durward  took 
his  seat  by  her  cousin,  she  had  appeared  ill  at  ease,  and  as 
he  began  to  understand  her  better,  he  readily  guessed  that 
her  silent  mood  was  owing  chiefly  to  the  attentions  he 
paid  to  'Lena,  and  not  to  a  nervous  headache,  as  she  said, 
when  her  grandmother,  inquiring  the  cause  of  her  silence, 
remarked,  that  "  she'd  been  chipper  enough  until  Mr.  Bell 
mont  came  in." 

But  he  did  not  care.  He  admired'  Lena,  and  John  Jr. 
like,  it  made  but  little  difference  with  him  who  knew  it. 
Carrie's  freaks,  which  he  plainly  saw,  rather  amused  him 
than  otherwise,  but  of  Mrs.  Livingstone  he  had  no  sus 
picion  whatever.  Consequently,  when  she  sent  'Lena 
from  the  room  on  some  trifling  errand,  herself  appropri 
ating  the  vacated  seat,  he  saw  in  it  no  particular  design, 
but  in  his  usual  pleasant  way  commenced  talking  with 
Carrie,  who  brightened  up  so  much  that  grandma  asked 
"if  her  headache  wasn't  e'en-a'most  well !" 

When  'Lena  returned  to  the  parlor,  Durward  was  pro- 


190  'LENA   RIVERS. 

posing  a  surprise  visit  to  Nellie  Douglass  some  time  during 
the  holidays.  "  We'll  invite  Mr.  Everett,  and  all  go  down. 
What  do  you  say,  girls  ?  "  said  he,  turning  toward  Carrie 
and  Anna,  but  meaning  'Lena  quite  as  much  as  either  of 
them. 

"  Capital,"  answered  Anna,  visions  of  a  long  ride  with 
Malcolm  instantly  passing  before  her  mind. 

"  I  should  like  it  very  much,"  said  Carrie,  visions  of  a 
ride  with  Durward  crossing  her  mind. 

"  And  I  too,"  said  'Lena,  laying  her  hand  on  John  Jr.'s 
shoulder,  as  if  he  would  of  course  be  her  escort. 

Carrie's  ill-nature  had  not  all  vanished,  and  now,  in  a 
slightly  insolent  tone,  she  said,  '•  How  do  you  know  you  are 
included  ?  " 

'Lena  was  about  to  reply,  when  Durward,  a  little  pro 
voked  at  Carrie's  manner,  prevented  her  by  saying,  "  Of 
course  I  meant  Miss  Rivers,  and  I  will  now  do  myself  the 
honor  of  asking  her  to  ride  with  me,  either  on  horseback 
or  in  a  carriage,  just  as  she  prefers." 

In  a  very  graceful  manner  'Lena  accepted  the  invitation, 
saying  that  "  she  always  preferred  riding  on  horseback, 
but  as  the  pony  which  she  usually  rode  had  recently  been 
sold,  she  would  be  content  to  go  in  any  other  way." 

"  Fleetfoot  sold !  what's  that  for  ?  "  asked  Anna ;  and 
her  mother  replied,  "We've  about  forty  horses  on  our 
hands  now,  and  as  Fi-etfoot  was  seldom  used  by  any  one 
except  'Lena,  your  father  thought  we  couldn't  afford  to 
keep  him." 

She  did  not  dare  tell  the  truth  of  the  matter,  and  say 
that  ever  since  the  morning  when  'Lena  rode  to  Wood- 
lawn  with  Durward,  Fleetfoot's  fate  had  been  decreed. 
Repeatedly  had  she  urged  the  sale  upon  her  husband, 
who,  wearied  with  her  importunity,  at  last  consented. 


MRS.  LIVIXGSTOXE'S  CALLS.  l«Jl 

selling  him  to  a  neighboring  planter,  who  had  taken  him 
away  that  very  day. 

"That's  smart,"  said  John  Jr.  looking  at  his  father,  whc 
had  not  spoken.  "  What  is  'Lena  going  to  ride,  I  should 
like  to  know." 

'Lena  pressed  his  arm  to  keep  him  still,  but  he  would 
not  heed  her.  "  Isn't  there  plenty  of  feed  for  Fleetfoot  ?" 

"Certainly,"  answered  his  father,  compelled  now  to 
speak ;  "  plenty  of  feed,  but  Fleetfoot  was  getting  old  and 
fometimes  stumbled.  Perhaps  we'll  get  'Lena  a  better 
and  younger  horse. 

This  was  said  in  a  half  timid  way,  which  brought  the 
tears  to  'Lena's  eyes,  for  at  the  bottom  of  it  all  she  saw 
her  aunt,  who  sat  looking  into  the  glowing  grate,  appa 
rently  oblivious  to  all  that  was  passing  around  her." 

"  That  reminds  me  of  Christmas  gifts,"  said  Durward, 
anxious  to  change  the  conversation.  "I  wonder  how 
many  of  us  will  get  one  ?  " 

Ere  there  was  any  chance  for  an  answer,  a  servant  ap 
peared  at  the  door,  asking  Mrs.  Livingstone  for  some  medi 
cine  for  old  Aunt  Polly,  the  superannuated  negress,  who 
will  'be  remembered  as  having  nursed  Mrs.  Nichols  during 
her  attack  of  rheumatism,  and  for  whom  grandma  had 
conceived  a  strong  affection.  For  many  days  she  had 
been  very  ill,  causing  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  wonder  "  what 
old  niggers  wanted  to  live  for,  bothering  everybody  to 
death." 

The  large  stock  of  abolitionism  which  Mrs.  Nichols  had 
brought  with  her  from  Massachusetts  was  a  little  dimin 
ished  by  force  of  habit,  but  the  root  was  there  still,  in  all 
*ts  vigor,  and  since  Aunt  Polly's  illness  she  had  been  re 
volving  in  her  mind  the  momentous  question,  whether  she 
would  not  be  most  guilty  if  Polly  were  suffered  to  (*;e  iy 
bondage. 


192  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  I  promised  Nancy  Scovandyke,"  said  she,  "  that  I'd 
have  some  on  'em  set  free,  but  I'll  be  bound  if  'taint  harder 
work  than  I  s'posed  't  would  be." 

Still  Aunt  Polly's  freedom  lay  warm  at  grandma's  heart., 
and  now  when  she  was  mentioned  together  with  "  Christ 
mas  gifts,"  a  bright  idea  entered  her  mind. 

"  John,"  said  she  to  her  son,  when  Corinda  had  gone 
with  the   medicine,  "John,  have  you  ever  made  me  a 
Christmas  present  since  I've  been  here  ?  " 
"  I  believe  not,"  was  his  answer. 

"Wall,"    continued   grandma,   "bein's  the   fashion,  I 
wan't  you  to  give  me  somethin'  this  Christmas,  will  you  ?" 
"  Certainly,"  said  he,  "  what  is  it  ?  " 
Grandma  replied  that   she  would  rather  not  tell  him 
then— she  would  wait  until   Christmas   morning,  which 
came  the  next  Tuesday,  and  here  the  conversation  ended. 
Soon  after,  Durward  took   his  leave,  telling    'Lena  he 
should  call  for  her  on  Thursday. 

"  That's  a  plaguy  smart  feller,"  said  grandma,  as  the 
door  closed  upon  him ;  "  and  I  kinder  think  he's  got  a 
notion  after  'Leny." 

"Ridiculous!"  muttered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  while  Car- 
rie  added,  "  Just  reverse  it,  and  say  she  has  a  notion  after 

him ! " 

"  Shut  up  your  head,"  growled  John  Jr. 
only  angry  because  he  asked  her  to  accompany  him,  in 
stead  of  yourself.     I  reckon  he  knows  what  he's  about." 

"I  reckon  he  does,  too!"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  with 
a  peculiar  smile,  which  nettled  'Lena  more  than  any  open 
attack  would  have  done. 

With  the  exception  of  his  mother,  John  Jr.  was  the 
last  to  leave  the  parlor,  and  when  all  the  rest  were  gone, 
Mrs.  Livingstone  seized  her  opportunity  for  telling  him 
what  she  had  heard.  Taking  a  light  from  the  table,  he 


MUS.  LIVINGSTONE'S  CALLS.  193 

was  about  retiring,  when  she  said,  "  I  learned  some  news 
to-day  which  a  little  surprised  me." 

"  Got  it  from  Mother  Atkins,  I  suppose,"  answered 
John,  still  advancing  toward  the  door. 

"Partly  from  her,  and  partly  from  others,"  said  his 
mother,  adding,  as  she  saw  him  touch  the  door-knob, 
"  It's  about  Nellie  Douglass. 

This  was  sufficient  to  arrest  his  attention,  and  turning 
about,  he  asked,  "What  of  her?" 

"  Why,  nothing  of  any  great  consequence,  as  I  know 
ofj"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "only  people  in  Frankfort 
think  she's  going  to  be  married." 

"/  think  so,  too,"  was  John's  mental  reply,  while  his 
verbal  one  was,  "Married !  To  whom  ?  » 

"  Did  you  ever  hear  her  speak  of  Mary  Wilbur  ?  " 
"  Yes,  she's  been  staying  with  her  ever  since  Mrs.  Gra 
ham's  party." 

"  Well,  Mary  it  seems  has  a  brother,  a  rich  old  bache 
lor,  who  they  say  is  very  attentive  to  Nellie.     He  came 
home  with  her  from  Madison,  staying  at  her  father's  the 
rest  of  the  week,  and  paying  her  numberless  attentions 
which — " 

^  "7"  dortt  believe  it,"  interrupted  John  Jr.,  striking  his 
fist  upon  the  table,  to  which  he  had  returned. 

^  Neither  did  I,  at  first,  said  his  mother,  "but  I  heard 
it  in  so  many  places  that  there  must  be  something  in  it. 
And  I'm  sure  it's  a  good  match.  He  is  rich,  and  willing* 
they  say,  to  help  her  father,  who  is  in  danger  of  failing 
any  moment." 

Without  knowing  it,  John  Jr.  was  a  little  inclined  to 
be  jealous,  particularly  of  those  whom  he  loved  very 
much,  and  now  suddenly  remembering  to  have  heard  Nel 
lie  speak  in  high  terms  of  Robert  Wilbur,  he  began  to 
feel  uneasy,  lest  what  his  mother  had  said  were  truo°  She 
J  13 


194  'LENA  RIVERS. 

saw  her  advantage,  and  followed  it  up  until,  in  a  fit  of  an 
ger,  he  rushed  from  the  room  and  repaired  to  his  own 
apartment,  where  for  a  time  he  walked  backward  and  for 
ward,  chafing  like  a  caged  lion,  and  wishing  all  manner 
of  evil  upon  Nellie,  if  she  were  indeed  false  to  him. 

He  was  very  excitable,  and  at  last  worked  himself  up 
to  such  a  pitch,  that  he  determined  upon  starting  at  once 
for  Frankfort,  to  demand  of  Nellie  if  what  he  had  heard 
were  true !  Upon  cooler  reflection,  however,  he  conclu 
ded  not  to  make  a  "  perfect  fool  of  himself,"  and  plung 
ing  into  bed,  he  fell  asleep,  as  what  man  will  not,  be  hia 
trouble  what  it  may. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

CHRISTMAS     GIFTS. 


THE  sunlight  of  a  bright  Christmas  morning  had  hardly 
dawned  upon  the  earth,  when  from  many  a  planter's 
home  in  the  sunny  south  was  heard  the  joyful  cry  of 
"  Christmas  Gift,"  "  Christmas  Gift,"  as  the  negroes  ran 
over  and  against  each  other,  hiding,  ofttimes,  until  some 
one  came  within  hailing  distance,  when  their  loud  "Christ 
mas  Gift"  would  make  ah1  echo  again.  On  this  occasion, 
every  servant  at  Maple  Grove  was  remembered,  for  Anna 
and  'Lena  had  worked  both  early  and  late  in  preparing 
some  little  present,  and  feeling  amply  compensated  for 
their  trouble,  when  they  saw  how  much  happiness  it 
gave.  Mabel,  too,  while  she  staid,  had  lent  a  helping 
hand,  and  many  a  blessing  was  that  morning  invoked  up, 
on  her  head  from  the  hearts  made  glad  by  her  generous 
gifts.  Carrie,  when  asked  to  join  them,  had  turned  scorn- 


CHRISTMAS  GIFTS.  193 

fully  away,  saying  "  she'd  plenty  to  do,  without  working 
for  niggers,  who  could  not  appreciate  it." 

So  all  her  leisure  hours  were  spent  in  embroidering  a 
fine  cambric  handkerchief,  intended  as  a  present  for  Mrs. 
Graham,  and  which  with  a  delicate  note  was,  the  evening 
previous,  sent  to  Woodlawn,  with  instructions  to  have  it 
placed  next  morning  on  Mrs.  Graham's  table.  Of  course 
Mrs.  Graham  felt  in  duty  bound  to  return  the  compli 
ment,  and  looking  over  her  old  jewelry,  she  selected  a 
diamond  ring  which  she  had  formerly  worn,  but  which 
was  now  too  small  for  her  fat,  chubby  fingers.  This  was 
immediately  forwarded  to  Maple  Grove,  reaching  there 
just  as  the  family  were  rising  from  the  breakfast  table. 

"  Oh,  isn't  it  beautiful— splendid — magnificent ! "  were 
Carrie's  exclamations,  while  she  praised  Mrs.  Graham's 
generosity,  secretly  wondering  if  "  Durward  did  not  have 
something  to  do  with  it." 

On  this  point  she  was  soon  set  right,  for  the  young  man 
himself  erelong  appeared,  and  after  bidding  thenTall  a 
:' Merry  Christmas/'  presented  Anna  with  a  package, 
which,  on  being  opened,  proved  to  be  a  large  and  com' 
plete  copy  of  Shakspeare,  elegantly  bound,  and  bearing 
upon  its  heavy  golden  clasp  the  words,  "  Anna  Living 
stone,  from  Durward." 

"  This  you  will  please  accept  from  me,"  said  he.  "  Moth 
er,  I  believe,  has  sent  Carrie  something,  and  if  'Lena  will 
step  to  the  door,  she  will  see  her  gift  from  father,  who 
hopes  it  will  give  her  as  much  pleasure  to  accept  it,  as  it 
does  him  to  present  it." 

"What  can  it  be?"  thought  Carrie,  rising  languidlv 
from  the  sofa,  and  following  'Lena  and  her  sister  to  the 
side  door,  where  stood  one  of  Mr.  Graham's  servants, 
holding  a  beautiful  gray  pony,  all  nicely  equipped  for 
riding. 


190  'LENA    RIVERS. 

Never  dreaming  that  this  was  intended  for  'Lena,  Car. 
rie  looked  vacantly  around,  saying,  "  Why,  where  is  it ; 
I  don't  see  anything." 

"  Here,"  said  Durward,  taking  the  bridle  from  the  ne 
gro's  hand,  and  playfully  throwing  it  across  'Lena's  neck. 
"Here  it  is — this  pony,  which  we  call  Yesta.  Vesta,  al 
low  me  to  introduce  you  and  your  new  mistress,  Miss 
'Lena,  to  each  other,"  and  catching  her  up,  as  if  she  had 
been  a  feather,  he  placed  her  hi  the  saddle.  Then,  at  a 
peculiar  whistle,  the  well-trained  animal  started  off  upon 
an  easy  gallop,  bearing  its  burden  lightly  around  the 
yard,  and  back  again  to  the  piazza. 

"Do  you  like  her  ?"  he  asked  of  'Lena,  extending  his 
arms  to  lift  her  down. 

For  a  moment  'Lena  could  not  speak,  her  heart  was  so 
full.  But  at  last,  forcing  down  her  emotion,  she  replied, 
"  Oh,  very,  very  much  ;  but  it  isn't  for  me,  I  know — there 
must  be  some  mistake.  Mr.  Graham  never  intended  it 
for  me." 

"  Yes  he  did,"  answered  Durward.  "  He  has  intended 
it  ever  since  the  morning  when  you  and  I  rode  to  Wood- 
lawn.  A  remark  which  your  cousin  John  made  at  the  ta 
ble,  determined  him  upon  buying  and  training  a  pony  for 
you.  So  here  it  is,  and  as  I  have  done  my  share  toward 
teaching  her,  you  must  grant  me  the  favor  of  riding  her 
to  Frankfort  day  after  to-morrow." 

"  Thank  you,  thank  you — you  and  Mr.  Graham  too — 
a  thousand  times,"  said  'Lena,  winding  her  arms  around 
the  neck  of  the  docile  animal,  who  did  her  best  to  return 
the  caress,  rubbing  her  face  against  'Lena,  and  evincing 
her  gentleness  in  various  ways. 

By  this  time  Mr.  Livingstone  had  joined  them,  and 
while  he  was  admiring  the  pony  Durward  said  to  him, 


CHRISTMAS  GIFTS.  191 

u  I  am  commissioned  by  my  father  to  tell  you  that  he  will 
defray  all  the  expense  of  keeping  Vesta." 

"  Don't  mention  such  a  thing  again,"  hastily  interposed 
Mr.  Livingstone.  "I  can  keep  fifty  horses,  if  I  choose, 
and  nothing  will  give  me  more  pleasure  than  to  take  care 
of  this  one  for  'Lena,  who  deserves  it  if  any  one  does."  . 

"  That's  my  Christmas  gift  from  you,  uncle,  isn't  it  ?  " 
asked  'Lena,  the  tears  gushing  from  her  shining,  brown 
eyes. 

"  And  now,  please,  may  I  return  it  ?  " 

"Certainly,"  said  he,  and  with  a  nimble  spring  she 
caught  him  around  the  neck,  imprinting  upon  his  lips  the 
first  and  only  kiss  she  had  ever  given  him ;  then,  amid 
blushes  and  tears,  which  came  from  a  heart  full  of  happi 
ness,  she  ran  away  up  stairs  followed  by  the  envious  eyes 
of  Carrie,  who  repaired  to  her  mother's  room,  where  she 
stated  all  that  had  transpired — "  How  Mr.  Graham  had 
sent  'Lena  a  gray  pony — how  she  had  presumed  to  accept 
it — and  how,  just  to  show  off  before  Mr.  Bellmont,  she 
had  wound  her  arms  around  its  neck,  and  then  actually 
kisserfpa  !  " 

Mrs.  Livingstone  was  equally  indignant  with  her  daugh 
ter,  wondering  if  Mr.  Graham  had  lost  his  reason,  and 
reckoning  his  wife  knew  nothing  about  Vesta !  But  fret 
as  she  would,  there  was  no  help  for  it.  Vesta  belonged 
to  'Lena — Mr.  Livingstone  had  given  orders  to  have  it 
well-cared  for — and  worse  than  all  the  rest,  'Lena  was  to 
accompany  Durward  to  Frankfort.  Something  must  be 
done  to  meet  the  emergency,  but  what,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
didn't  exactly  know,  and  finally  concluded  to  wait  until 
she  saw  Mrs.  Graham. 

Meantime  grandma  had  claimed  from  her  son  her  prom 
ised  Christmas  gift,  which  was  nothing  less  than  "the 
freedom  of  old  Aunt  Polly." 


198  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  You  won't  refuse  me,  John,  I  know  you  won't,"  said 
she,  laying  her  bony  hand  on  his.  "  Polly's  arnt  her  free 
dom  forty  times  ovev,  even  s'posin'  you'd  a  right  to  her  in 
the  fust  place,  which  1  and  Nancy  Scovandyke  both  doubt ; 
so  now  set  down  like  a  man,  make  out  her  free  papers, 
and  let  me  carry  'em  to  her  right  away." 

Without  a  word  Mr.  Livingstone  complied  with  his 
mother's  request,  saying,  as  he  handed  her  the  paper, 
"  It's  not  so  much  the  fault  of  the  south  as  of  the  north 
that  every  black  under  heaven  is  not  free." 

Grandma  looked  aghast.  Her  son,  born,  brought  up, 
and  baptized  in  a  purely  orthodox  atmosphere,  to  hold 
such  treasonable  opinions  in  opposition  to  everything  he'd 
ever  been  taught  in  good  old  Massachusetts !  She  was 
greatly  shocked,  but  thinking  she  could  not  do  the  sub 
ject  justice,  she  said,  "Wall,  wall,  it's  of  no  use  for  you 
and  I  to  arger  the  pint,  for  I  don't  know  nothin'  what  I 
want  to  say,  but  if  Nancy  Scovandyke  was  here,  she'd 
convince  you  quick,  for  she's  good  larnin'  as  any  of  the 
gals  now-a-days." 

So  saying,  she  walked  away  to  Polly's  cabin.  The  old 
negress  was  better  to-day,  and  attired  in  the  warm 
double-gown  which  Mabel  had  purchased  and  'Lena  had 
made,  she  sat  up  in  a  large,  comfortable  rocking-chair, 
which  John  Jr.  had  given  her  at  the  commencement  of 
her  illness,  saying  it  was  "  his  Christmas  gift  in  advance." 
Going  straight  up  to  her,  grandma  laid  the  paper  in  her 
lap,  bidding  her  "  read  it  arid  thank  the  Lord." 

"Bless  missus'  dear  old  heart,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  "I 
can't  read  a  word." 

"  Sure  enough,"  answered  Mrs.  Nichols,  and  taking  up 
tne  paper  she  read  it  through,  managing  to  make  the  old 
creature  comprehend  its  meaning. 

"Praise   the  Lord!  praise  Marster  John,  and  all  the 


FRANKFORT.  199 

other  apostles  !  "  exclaimed  Aunt  Polly,  clasping  together 
her  black,  wrinkled  hands,  while  tears  of  joy  coursed  their 
way  down  her  cheeks.  "  The  breath  of  liberty  is  sweet — 
sweet  as  sugar,"  she  continued,  drawing  long  inspirations, 
as  if  to  make  up  for  lost  time. 

Mrs.  Nichols  looked  on,  silently  thanking  God  for  hav 
ing  made  her  an  humble  instrument  in  contributing  so 
much  to  another's  happiness. 

"  Set  down,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  motioning  toward  a 
wooden  bottomed  chair ;  "  set  down,  and  let's  us  talk  over 
this  great  meracle,  which  I've  prayed  and  rastled  for 
mighty  nigh  a  hundred  times,  without  havin'  an  atom  of 
faith  that  't  would  ever  be." 

So  Mrs.  Nichols  sat  down,  and  for  nearly  an  hour  tho 
old  ladies  talked,  the  one  of  her  newly-found  freedom, 
and  the  other  of  her  happiness  in  knowing  that  "  't  wasn't 
for  nothin'  she  was  turned  out  of  her  old  home  and  brought 
away  over  land  and  sea  to  Kentucky." 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

F  R  ANKFORT. 

THURSDAY  morning  came,  bright,  sunshiny  and  beaut, 
ful,  and  at  about  ten  o'clock  'Lena,  dressed  and  ready  fo 
her  ride,  came  down  to  the  parlor,  where  she  found  Join 
Jr.  listlessly  leaning  upon  the  table  with  his  elbows,  an. 
drumming  with  his  fingers. 

"  Come,  cousin,"  said  she,  "why  are  you  not  ready?1 
"  Ready  for  what !  "  he  answered,  without  raising  hig 
hood. 


200  >LENA  RIVERS. 

"  Why,  ready  for  our  visit,"  replied  'Lena,  at  the  same 
time  advancing  nearer,  to  see  what  ailed  him. 

"  All  the  visit  I  make  to-day  won't  hurt  me,  I  reckon," 
said  he,  pushing  his  hat  a  little  more  to  one  side  and  looking 
up  at  'Lena,  who,  in  some  surprise,  asked  what  he  meant. 

"  I  mean  what  I  say,"  was  his  ungracious  answer ;  "  I've 
no  intention  whatever  of  going  to  Frankfort." 

"  Not  going  ?  "  repeated  'Lena.  "  Why  not  ?  What 
will  Carrie  do  ? 

"  Stick  herself  in  with  you  and  Durward.  I  suppose," 
said  John  Jr.,  just  as  Carrie  entered  the  room,  together 
with  Mr.  Bellmont,  Malcolm,  and  Anna. 

"  N"ot  going  ? — of  course  then  I  must  stay  at  home, 
too,"  said  Carrie,  secretly  pleased  at  her  brother's  decision. 

"Why  of  course?  "  asked  Durward,  who,  in  the  emer 
gency,  felt  constrained  to  offer  his  services  to  Carrie, 
though  he  would  greatly  have  preferred  'Lena's  company 
ulone.  "  The  road  is  wide  enough  for  three,  and  I  am  fully 
competent  to  take  charge  of  two  ladies.  But  why  don't 
you  go  ?  "  turning  to  John  Jr. 

"  Because  I  don't  wish  to.  If  it  was  anywhere  in  crea 
tion  but  there,  I'd  go,"  answered  the  young  man,  hastily 
leaving  the  room  to  avoid  all  further  argument. 

"  He  does  it  just  to  be  hateful  and  annoy  me,"  said  Car 
rie,  trying  to  pout,  but  making  a  failure,  for  she  had  in 
reality  much  rather  go  under  Durward's  escort  than  her 
brother's. 

The  horses  were  now  announced  as  ready,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  little  party  were  on  their  way,  Carrie  affect 
ing  so  much  fear  of  her  pony  that  Durward  at  last  po 
litely  offered  to  lead  him  awhile.  This  would  of  course 
bring  him  close  to  her  side,  and  after  a  little  well-feigned 
hesi/  ation,  she  replied,  "  I  am  sorry  to  trouble  you,  but  if 
you  would  be  so  kind — " 


FRANKFORT.  201 

'Lena  saw  through  the  ruse,  and  patting  Vesta  gently 
rode  on  in  advance,  greatly  to  the  satisfaction  of  Carrie, 
and  greatly  to  the  chagrin  of  Durward,  who  replied  to  his 
loquacious  companion  only  in  monosyllables.  Once,  in 
deed,  when  she  said  something  concerning  'Lena's  evident 
desire  to  show  off  her  horsemanship,  he  answered  rather 
coolly,  that  "  he'd  yet  to  discover  in  Miss  Rivers  the  least 
propensity  for  display  of  any  kind." 

"  You've  never  lived  with  her,"  returned  Carrie,  and 
there  the  conversation  concerning  'Lena  ceased. 

Meantime,  Nellie  Douglass  was  engaged  in  answering 
a  letter  that  morning  received  from  Mary  Wilbur.  A  few 
years  before,  Mary  had  spent  some  months  in  Mr.  Doug- 
lass'  family,  conceiving  a  strong  affection  for  Nellie,  whom 
she  always  called  her  sister,  and  with  whom  she  kept  up 
a  regular  correspondence.  Mary  was  an  orphan,  living 
with  her  only  brother  Robert,  who  was  a  bachelor  of 
thirty  or  thirty-five.  Once  she  had  ventured  to  hope  that 
Nellie  would  indeed  be  to  her  a  sister,  but  fate  had  de 
creed  it  otherwise,  and  her  brother  was  engaged  to  a  lady 
whom  he  found  a  school-girl  in  Montreal,  and  who  was 
now  at  her  own  home  in  England.  This  was  well-known 
to  Nellie,  but  she  did  not  deem  it  a  matter  of  sufficient 
importance  to  discuss,  so  it  was  a  secret  in  Frankfort, 
where  Mr.  Wilbur's  polite  attentions  to  herself  was  a  sub 
ject  of  considerable  remark.  For  a  long  time  Mary  had 
been  out  of  health,  and  the  family  physician  at  last  said 
that  nothing  could  save  her  except  a  sea  voyage,  and  as 
her  brother  was  about  going  to  Europe  to  consummate 
his  marriage,  it  was  decided  that  she  should  accompany 
him.  This  she  was  willing  to  do,  provided  Nellie  Doug, 
lass  would  go  too. 

"  It  would  be  much  pleasanter,"  she  said,  "  having  som  j 
female  companion  besides  her  attendant,  and  then,  too, 


202  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Nellie  had  relatives  in  England ; "  so  she  urged  her  to 
accompany  them,  offering  to  defray  all  expenses  for  the 
pleasure  of  her  society. 

Since  Nellie's  earliest  recollection,  her  fondest  dreams 
had  been  of  England,  her  mother's  birth-place  ;  and  now, 
when  so  favorable  an  opportunity  for  visiting  it  was 
presented,  she  felt  strongly  tempted  to  say  "  Yes."  Still. 
she  would  give  Mary  no  encouragement  until  she  had 
seen  her  father  and  John  Jr.,  the  latter  of  whom  would 
influence  her  decision  quite  as  much  as  the  former.  But 
John  Jr.  no  longer  loved  her — she  was  sure  of  that — and 
with  her  father's  consent  she  had  half  determined  to  go. 
Still  she  was  undecided,  until  a  letter  came  from  Mary, 
urging  her  to  make  up  her  mind  without  delay,  as  they 
were  to  sail  the  15th  of  January. 

"  Brother  is  so  sensitive  concerning  his  love  affairs," 
wrote  Mary,  "that  whether  you  conclude  to  join  us  or 
not,  you  will  please  say  nothing  about  his  intended 
marriage." 

Nellie  had  seated  herself  to  answer  this  letter,  when  a 
servant  came  up,  saying  that  "  Marster  Bellmont,  all  the 
Livingstones,  and  a  heap  more  were  down  stars,  and  had 
Bent  for  her." 

She  was  just  writing,  "  I  will  go,"  when  this  announce 
ment  came,  and  quickly  suspending  her  pen,  she  thought, 
"  He's  come,  at  last.  It  may  all  be  a  mistake.  I'll 
wait."  With  a  beating  heart  she  descended  to  the  par 
lor,  where  she  politely  greeted  Mr.  Everett  and  Dur- 
ward,  and  then  anxiously  glanced  around  for  the  missing 
one.  Mabel,  who  felt  a  similar  disappointment,  ventured 
to  inquire  for  him,  in  a  low  tone,  whereupon  Carrie  re 
plied,  loudly  enough  for  Nellie  to  hear,  "  Oh,  pray  don't 
speak  of  that  bear.  Why,  you  don't  know  how  cross 
he's  been  over  since — let  me  see — ever  since  you  came 


FRANKFORT.  203 

away.     He  doesn't  say  a  civil  word  to  anybody,  and  I 
really  wish  you'd  come  back  before  he  kills  us  all." 
"Did  you  invite  him  to  come  ?"  said  Nellie. 
"To  be  sure  we  did,"  answered  Carrie,  "and  he  said 
1  anywhere  in  creation  but  there.'  " 

Nellie  needed  no  further  confirmation,  and  after  con 
versing  awhile  with  her  guests,  she  begged  leave  to  be 
excused  for  a  few  moments,  while  she  finished  a  letter  of 
importance,  which  must  go  out  in  the  next  mail.  Alone 
in  her  room,  she  wavered,  but  the  remembrance  of  the 
words,  "  anywhere  in  creation  but  there,"  decided  her, 
and  with  a  firm  hand  she  wrote  to  Mary  that  she  would 
go.  When  the  letter  was  finished  and  sent  to  the  office, 
Nellie  returned  to  her  visitors,  who  began  to  rally  her 
concerning  the  important  letter  which  must  be  answered. 
14  Now,  coz,"  said  Durward,  pulling  her  down  upon 
the  sofa  by  his  side,  "now,  coz,  I  claim  a  right  to  know 
something  about  this  letter.  Was  it  one  of  acceptance 
or  rejection  ?  " 

"Acceptance,  of  course,"  answered  Nellie,  who,  know- 
ing  no  good  reason  why  her  intended  tour  should  be 
kept  a  secret,  proceeded  to  speak  of  it,  telling  how  they 
were  to  visit  Scotland,  France,  Switzerland,  and  Italy, 
and  almost  forgetting,  in  her  enthusiasm,  how  wretched 
the  thought  of  the  journey  made  her. 

"  And  Miss  Wilbur's  brother  is  to  be  your  escort— ho 
is  unmarried,  I  believe?"  said  Durward,  looking  stead 
ily  upon  the  carpet. 

In  a  moment  Nellie  would  have  told  of  his  engagement, 
and  the  object  of  his  going,  but  she  remembered  Mary's 
request  in  time,  and  the  blush  which  the  almost  commit 
ted  mistake  called  to  her  cheek,  was  construed  by  all 
into  a  confession  that  there  was  something  between  he.< 
and  Mr.  Wilbur. 


204  LENA  RIVERS. 

"That  accounts  for  John's  sudden  churlishness,"  thought 
'Lena,  wondering  how  Nellie  could  have  deceived  him  so. 

"  Oh,  I  see  it  all,  exclaimed  Mabel.  "  I  understand 
now  what  has  made  Nellie  so  absent-minded  and  restless 
these  many  days.  She  was  making  up  her  mind  to  be 
come  Mrs.  Wilbur,  while  I  fancied  she  was  oifended  with 
me." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean,"  answered  Nellie,  with 
out  smiling  in  the  least.  "  Mary  Wilbur  wishes  me  to 
accompany  her  to  Europe,  and  I  intend  doing  so.  Her 
brother  is  nothing  to  me,  nor  ever  will  be." 

"  Quite  a  probable  story,"  thought  Mr.  Everett,  with 
out  formino-  his  reflections  into  words.  » 

O 

Toward  the  middle  of  the  afternoon,  a  violent  ringing 
of  the  door-bell,  and  a  heavy  tramp  in  the  hall,  announced 
some  new  arrival,  and  Nellie  was  about  opening  the  par 
lor  door,  when  who  should  appear  but  John  Jr. !  From 
his  room  he  had  watched  the  departure  of  the  party,  one 
moment  wishing  he  was  with  them,  and  the  next  declar- 
m<y  he'd  never  go  to  Frankfort  again  so  long  as  he  lived ! 
At  length  inclination  getting  the  ascendency  of  his  rea 
son,  he  mounted  Firelock,  and  rushing  furiously  down 
the  'pike,  never  once  slackened  his  speed  until  th.e  city 
was  in  sight. 

"  I  dare  say  she'll  think  me  a  fool,"  thought  he,  "  tag 
ging  her  round,  but  she  needn't  worry.  I  only  want  to 
show  her  how  little  her  pranks  affect  me." 

With  these  thoughts  he  could  not  fail  to  meet  Nellie 
otherwise  than  coldly,  while  she  received  him  with  equal 
indifference,  calling  him  Mr.  Livingstone,  and  asking 
if  he  were  cold,  with  other  questions,  such  as  any  polite 
hostess  would  ask  of  her  guest.  But  her  accustomed 
smile  and  usual  frankness  of  manner  were  gone,  and  whilo 
John  Jr.  felt  it  keenly,  he  strove,  under  a  mask  of  in- 


FRANKFORT.  205 

difference,  to  conceal  his  chagrin.  Mabel  seemed  de 
lighted  to  see  him,  and  for  want  of  something  better  to 
do,  he  devoted  himself  to  her,  calling  her  Meb,  and  teas 
ing  her  about  her  "  Indian  locks,"  as  he  called  her  straight, 
black  hair.  Could  he  have  seen  the  bitter  tears  which 
Nellie  constantly  forced  back,  as  she  moved  carelessly 
among  her  guests,  far  different  would  have  been  his  con 
duct.  But  he  only  felt  that  she  had  been  untrue  to  him, 
and  in  his  anger  he  was  hardly  conscious  of  what  he  was 
doing. 

So  when  Mabel  said  to  him,  "  Nellie  is  going  to  Europe 
with  Mr.  Wilbur  and  Mary,"  he  replied,  "  Glad  of  it- 
hope  she'll" — be  drowned,  he  thought — "have  a  good 
time,"  he  said — and  Nellie,  who  heard  all,  never  guessed 
how  heavily  the  blow  had  fallen,  or  that  the  hand  so  sud 
denly  placed  against  his  heart,  was  laid  there  to  still  the 
wild  throbbing  which  he  feared  she  might  hear. 

When  next  he  spoke,  his  voice  was  very  calm,  as  he 
asked  when  she  was  going,  and  how  long  she  intended  to 
begone.  "What!  so  soon?"  said  he,  when  told  that 
she  sailed  the  15th  of  January,  and  other  than  that,  not 
a  word  did  he  say  to  Nellie  concerning  her  intended  vis 
it,  until  just  before  they  left  for  home.  Then  for  a  mo 
ment  he  stood  alone  with  her  in  the  recess  of  a  window. 
There  was  a  film  upon  his  eyes  as  he  looked  upon  her, 
and  thought  it  might  be  for  the  last  time.  There 
was  anguish,  too,  in  his  heart,  but  it  did  not  mingle  in 
the  tones  of  his  voice,  which  was  natural,  and,  perhaps, 
indifferent,  as  he  said,  "Why  do  you  go  to  Europe 
Nellie  ?  » 

Quickly,  and  with  something  of  her  olden  look,  she 
glanced  up  into  his  face,  but  his  eyes,  which  would  not 
meet  hers,  lest  they  should  betray  themselves,  were  rest 
ing  upon  Mabel,  who,  on  a  stool  across  the  room,  was 


20(5  'LENA  RIVERS. 

petting  and  caressing  a  kitten.  'Twas  enough,  and  care* 
lessly  Nellie  answered,  "  Because  I  want  to ;  what  do  you 
suppose  ?  " 

Without  seeming  to  hear  her  answer,  the  young  maL 
walked  away  to  where  Mabel  sat,  and  commenced  teasing 
her  and  her  kitten,  while  Nellie,  maddened  with  herself, 
with  him,  with  everybody,  precipitately  left  the  room, 
and  going  to  her  chamber  hastily,  and  without  a  thought 
as  to  what  she  was  doing,  gathered  together  every  little 
token  which  John  Jr.  had  given  her,  together  with  his 
notes  and  letters,  written  hi  his  own  peculiar  and  scarcely 
legible  hand.  Tying  them  in  a  bundle,  she  wrote  with 
unflinching  nerve,  "  Do  thou  likewise,"  and  then  descend 
ing  to  the  hall,  laid  it  upon  the  hat-stand,  managing,  as  he 
was  leaving,  to  place  it  unobserved  in  his  hand.  Instinct 
ively  he  knew  what  it  was,  glanced  at  the  three  words 

written  thereon,  and  in  a  cold,  sneering  voice,  replied, 

4 1  will,  with  pleasure." 
And  thus  they  parted. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

THE     DEPARTURE. 

"  JOHN,  how  would  you  like  to  take  a  trip  to  New 
York— the  city,  I  mean  ?  "  said  Mr.  Livingstone,  to  his 
eon,  one  morning  about  two  weeks  following  the  events 
narrated  in  the  last  chapter. 

"  Well  enough— why  do  you  ask  ?  "  answered  John. 

"  Because,"  said  his  father,  "  I  have  to-day  received  a 
letter  which  makes  it  necessary  for  one  of  us  to  be  there 


THE  DEPARTURE.  207 

the  15th,  and  as  you  are  fond  of  traveling,  I  had  rather 
you  would  go.  You  had  better  start  immediately— say 
to-morrow." 

John  Jr.  started  from  his  chair.  To-morrow  she  left 
her  home— the  15th  she  sailed.  He  might  see  her  again, 
though  at  a  distance,  for  she  should  never  know  he  fol 
lowed  her !  Since  that  night  in  Frankf  jrt  he  had  not 
looked  upon  her  face,  but  he  had  kept  his  promise,  re 
turning  to  her  everything— everything  except  a  with 
ered  rose-bud,  which  years  before,  when  but  a  boy,  he  had 
twined  among  the  heavy  braids  of  her  hair,  and  which 
she  had  given  back  to  him,  playfully  fastening  it  in  the 
button-hole  of  his  roundabout !  How  well  he  remem 
bered  that  day.  She  was  a  little  romping  girl,  teasing 
him  unmercifully  about  his  flat  feet  and  Ug  hands,  chi 
ding  hun  for  his  negro  slang,  as  she  termed  his  favorite 
expressions,  and  with  whatever  else  she  did,  weaving  her 
image  into  his  heart's  best  and  noblest  affections,  until  he 
seemed  to  live  only  for  her.  But  now  'twas  changed— 
terribly  changed.  She  was  no  longer  "  his  Nellie^"  the 
Nellie  of  his  boyhood's  love;  and  with  a  muttered  curse 
and  a  tear,  large,  round,  and  hot,  such  as  only  John  Jr. 
could  shed,  he  sent  her  back  every  memento  of  the  past,' 
all  save  that  rose-bud,  with  which  he  could  not  part,  it 
seemed  so  like  his  early  hopes— withered  and  dead. 

Nellie  was  alone,  preparing  for  her  journey,  when  the 
box  containing  the  treasures  was  handed  her.  Again  and 
again  she  examined  to  see  if  there  were  not  one  farewell 
word,  but  there  was  nothing  save,  "Here  endeth  the  first 
lesson ! ! »  followed  by  two  exclamation  points,  which 
John  Jr.  had  dashed  off  at  random.  Every  article  seemed 
familiar  to  her  as  she  looked  them  over,  and  everything 
was  there  but  one— she  missed  the  rose-bud— and  she 
wondered  at  the  omission,  for  she  knew  he  had  it  in  his 


208  LENA  RIVERS. 

possession.  He  had  told  her  so  not  three  months  beforev 
Why,  then,  did  he  not  return  it?  Was  it  a  lingering 
affection  for  her  which  prompted  the  detention?  Per 
haps  so,  and  down  in  Nellie's  heart  was  one  warm,  bright 
spot,  the  memory  of  that  bud,  which  grew  green  and 
fresh  again,  as  on  the  day  when  first  it  was  torn  from  its 
parent  stem. 

When  it  was  first  known  at  Maple  Grove  that  Nellie 
was  going  to  Europe,  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  saw  in  the 
future  the  full  consummation  of  her  plans,  proposed  that 
Mabel  should  spend  the  period  of  Nellie's  absence  with 
her.  But  to  this  Mr.  Douglass  would  not  consent.  "  He 
could  not  part  with  both  his  daughters,"  he  said,  and  Ma 
bel  decided  to  remain,  stipulating  that  'Lena,  of  whom 
she  was  very  fond,  should  pass  a  portion  of  the  time  with 
her. 

"All  the  time,  if  she  chooses,"  said  Mr.  Douglass,  who 
also  liked  'Lena,  while  Nellie,  who  was  present,  immediate 
ly  proposed  that  she  should  take  music  lessons  of  Monsieur 
Du  Pont,  who  had  recently  come  to  the  city,  and  who 
was  said  to  be  a  superior  teacher.  "  She  is  fond  of  mu 
sic,"  said  she,  "  and  has  always  wanted  to  learn,  but  that 
aunt  of  hers  never  seemed  willing ;  and  this  will  be  a 
good  opportunity,  for  she  can  use  my  piano  all  the  time  if 
she  chooses." 

"  Capital !  "  exclaimed  Mabel,  generously  thinking  how 
she  would  pay  the  bills,  and  how  much  she  would  assist 
'Lena,  far  Mabel  was  an  excellent  musician,  singing  and 
playing  admirably. 

When  this  plan  was  proposed  to  'Lena,  she  objected, 
for  two  reasons.  The  first,  that  she  could  not  leave  her 
grandmother,  and  second,  that  much  as  she  desired  the 
lessons,  she  would  not  suffer  Mabel  to  pay  for  them,  and 
ehe  had  no  means  of  her  own.  On  the  first  point  she  be- 


THE  DEPARTURE.  209 

gan  to  waver,  when  Mrs.  Nichols,  who  was  in  unusually 
good  health,  insisted  upon  her  going. 

"It  will  do  you  a  sight  of  good,"  said  she,  "  and  there's 
.no  kind  of  use  why  you  should  stay  hived  up  with  me. 
I'd  as  lief  be  left  alone  as  not,  and  I  shall  take  comfort 
thinkin'  you're  larnin'  to  play  the  pianner,  for  I've  allus 
wondered  'Tildy  didn't  set  you  at  Car'line's.  So,  go," 
the  old  lady  continued,  whispering  in  'Lena's  ear,  "  Go, 
and  mebby  some  day  you'll  be  a  music  teacher,  and  take 
care  of  us  both." 

Still,  'Lena  hesitated  at  receiving  so  much  from  Mabel, 
who,  after  a  moment's  thought,  exclaimed,  "  Why,  I  can 
teach  you  myself!  I  should  love  to,  dearly.  It  will  be 
something  to  occupy  my  mind ;  and  my  instructors  have 
frequently  said  that  I  was  capable  of  teaching  advanced 
pupils,  if  I  chose.  You'll  go  now,  I  know  "—and  Mabel 
plead  her  cause  so  well,  that  'Lena  finally  consented,  say 
ing  she  should  come  home  once  a  week  to  see  her  grand 
mother. 

"  A  grand  arrangement,  I  must  confess,"  said  Carrie, 
when  she  heard  of  it.  "I  should  think  she  sponged 
enough  from  her  connections,  without  living  on  other 
folks,  and  poor  ones,  too,  like  Mr.  Douglass." 

"  How  ridiculous  you  talk,"  said  John  Jr.,  who  was 
present.  "  You'd  be  perfectly  willing  to  spend  a  year  at 
Mr.  Graham's,  or  Mr.  Douglass'  either,  if  he  had  a  son 
whom  you  considered  an  eligible  match.  Then  as  to  his 
being  so  poor,  that's  one  of  Mother  Atkins'  yarns,  and 
she  knows  everybody's  history,  from  Noah  down  to  the 
present  day.  For  'Lena's  sake  I  am  glad  to  have  her  go, 
though  heaven  knows  what  I  shall  do  without  her." 

Mrs.  Livingstone,  too,  was  secretly  pleased,  for  she 
would  thus  be  more  out  of  Durward's  way,  and  the  good 
lady  was  again  becoming  somewhat  suspicious.  So  when 

14 


210  'LENA  RIVERS. 

her  husband  objected,  saying  'Lena  could  take  lessons  at 
home  if  she  liked,  she  quietly  OA- erruled  him,  giving  many 
good  reasons  why  Lena  should  go,  and  finally  saying, 
that  if  Mrs.  Nichols  was  very  lonely  without  her,  she 
might  spend  her  evenings  in  the  parlor  when  there  was 
no  company  present !  So  it  was  decided  that  'Lena  should 
go,  and  highly  pleased  with  the  result  of  their  call,  Mr. 
Douglass  and  Mabel  returned  to  Frankfort. 

At  length  the  morning  came  when  Nellie  was  to  start 
on  her  journey.  Mr.  Wilbur  had  arrived  the  night  be 
fore,  together  with  his  sister,  whose  marble  cheek  and  lus- 
terless  eye  even  then  foretold  the  lonely  grave  which  await 
ed  her  far  away  'neath  a  foreign  sky.  Durward  and  Mr. 
Douglass  accompanied  them  as  far  as  Cincinnati,  where 
they  took  the  cars  for  Buffalo.  Just  before  it  rolled  from 
the  depot,  a  young  man  closely  muffled,  who  had  been 
watching  our  party,  sprang  into  a  car  just  in  the  rear  of 
the  one  they  had  chosen,  and  taking  the  first  vacant  seat, 
abandoned  himself  to  his  own  thoughts,  which  must  have 
been  very  absorbing,  as  a  violent  shake  was  necessary, 
ere  he  heeded  the  call  of  "  Your  ticket,  sir." 

Onward,  onward  flew  the  train,  while  faster  and  faster 
Nellie's  tears  were  dropping.  They  had  gushed  forth 
when  she  saw  the  quivering  chin  and  trembling  lips  of  her 
gray-haired  father,  as  he  bade  his  only  child  good-by, 
and  now  that  he  was  gone,  she  wept  on,  never  heeding 
her  young  friend,  who  strove  in  vain  to  call  her  attention 
to  the  fast  receding  hills  of  Kentucky,  which  she — Mary 

, Was  leaving  forever.  Other  thoughts  than  those  of  her 

father  mingled  with  Nellie's  tears,  for  she  could  not  for- 
get  John  Jr.,  nor  the  hope  cherished  to  the  last  that  he 
would  come  to  say  farewell.  But  he  did  not.  They  had 
parted  in  coldness,  if  not  in  anger,  and  she  might  never 
gee  him  again. 


THE  DEPARTURE.  211 

"  Come,  cheer  up,  Miss  Douglass ;  I  cannot  suffer  you 
to  be  sad,"  said  Mr.  Wilbur,  placing  himself  by  Nellie, 
and  thoughtlessly  throwing  his  arm  across  the  back  of  the 
seat,  while  at  the  same  time  he  bent  playfully  forward  to 
peep  under  her  bonnet. 

And  Nellie  did  look  up,  smiling  through  her  tears,  but 
she  did  not  observe  the  flashing  eyes  which  watched  her 
through  the  window  at  the  rear  of  the  car.  Always  rest- 
less  and  impatient  of  confinement,  John  Jr.  had  come  out 
for  a  moment  upon  the  platform,  ostensibly  to  take  the 
air,  but  really  to  see  if  it  were  possible  to  get  a  glimpse 
of  Nellie.  She  was  sitting  not  far  from  the  door,  and  he 
looked  in,  just  in  time  to  witness  Mr.  Wilbur's  action, 
which  he  of  course  construed  just  as  his  jealousy  dictated. 

"Confounded  fool!"  thought  he.  "I  wouldn't  hug 
Nellie  in  the  cars  hi  good  broad  daylight,  even  if  I  was 
married  to  her !  " 

And  returning  to  his  seat,  he  wondered  which  was  the 
silliest,  "  for  Nellie  to  run  off  with  Mr.  Wilbur,  or  for 
himself  to  run  after  her.  Six  of  one  and  half  a  dozen  of 
the  other,  I  reckon,"  said  he ;  at  the  same  time  wrapping 
himself  in  his  shawl,  he  feigned  sleep  at  every  station,  for 
the  sake  of  retaining  his  entire  seat,  and  sometimes  if  the 
crowd  was  great,  going  so  far  as  to  snore  loudly ! 

And  thus  they  proceeded  onward,  Nellie  never  suspect 
ing  the  close  espionage  kept  upon  her  by  John  Jr.,  who 
once  in  the  night,  at  a  crowded  depot,  passed  so  closely 
to  her  that  he  felt  her  warm  breath  on  his  cheek.  And 
when,  on  the  morning  of  the  15th,  she  sailed,  she  little 
thought  who  it  was  that  followed  her  down  to  the  wa 
ter's  edge,  standing  on  the  last  spot  where  she  had  stood, 
and  watching  with  a  swelling  heart  the  vessel  which  bore 
her  away. 

"I'm  nothing  better  than  a  walking  dead  man,  now,'-1 


912  'LENA  RIVERS. 

said  he,  as  he  retraced  his  steps  back  to  his  hotel.  "  Nel 
lie's  gone,  and  with  her  all  for  which  I  lived,  for  she's  the 
only  girl  except  'Lena  who  isn't  a  libel  on  the  sex — or, 

yes there's  Anna — does  as  well  as  she  knows  how — and 

there's  Mabel,  a  little  simpleton,  to  be  sure,  but  amiable 
and  good-natured,  and  on  the  whole,  as  smart  as  they'll 
average.  'Twas  kind  in  her,  anyway,  to  offer  to  pay  'Le 
na's  music  bills." 

And  with  these  reflections,  John  Jr.  sought  out  the 
men  whom  he  had  come  to  see,  transacted  his  business, 
and  then  started  for  home,  where  he  found  his  mother  in 
unusually  good  spirits.  Matters  thus  far  had  succeeded 
even  beyond  her  most  sanguine  expectations.  Nellie  was 
gone  to  Europe,  and  the  rest  she  fancied  would  be  easy. 
'Lena,  too,  was  gone,  but  the  result  of  this  was  not  what 
she  had  hoped.  Durward  had  been  at  Maple  Grove  but 
once  since  'Lena  left,  while  she  had  heard  of  his  being  in 
Frankfort  several  times. 

"Something  must  be  done" — her  favorite  expression— 
and  hi  her  difficulty  she  determined  to  call  upon  Mrs.  Gra 
ham,  whom  she  had  not  seen  since  Christmas.  "  It  is  quite 
time  she  knew  about  the  gray  pony,  as  well  as  other  mat 
ters,"  thought  she,  and  ordering  the  carriage,  she  set  out 
one  morning  for  Woodlawn,  intending  to  spend  the  day 
if  she  found  its  mistress  amiably  disposed,  which  was  not 
always  the  case. 


THE  VISIT.  *13 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

THE    VISIT. 

MKS.  GRAHAM  reclined  upon  a  softly-cushioned  sofa,  her 
tasteful  lace  morning-cap  half  falling  from  her  head,  and 
her  rich  cashmere  gown  flowing  open,  so  as  to  reveal  the 
flounced  cambric  skirt  which  her  sewing-girl  Lad  sat  up 
till  midnight  to  finish.  A  pair  of  delicate  French  slippers 
pinched  rather  than  graced  her  fat  foot,  one  of  which  an 
grily  beat  the  carpet,  as  if  keeping  time  to  its  mistress' 
thoughts.  Nervous  and  uncomfortable  was  the  lady  of 
Woodlawn  this  morning,  for  she  had  just  passed  through 
a  little  conjugal  scene  with  her  husband,  whom  she  had 
called  a  brute,  lamenting  the  dispensation  of  Providence 
which  took  from  her  "  her  beloved  Sir  Arthur,  who  al 
ways  thought  whatever  she  said  was  right,"  and  ending  by 
throwing  herself  in  the  most  theatrical  manner  upon  the 
sofa  hi  the  parlor,  where,  with  both  her  blood  and  temper 
at  a  boiling  heat,  she  lay,  when  her  waiting-maid,  but  re 
cently  purchased,  announced  the  approach  of  a  carriage. 

"  Mercy,"  exclaimed  the  distressed  lady,  "  whose  is  it  ? 
I  hope  no  one  will  ask  for  me." 

"  Reckon  how  it's  Marster  Livingstone's  carriage,  'case 
thar's  Tom  on  the  box,"  answered  the  girl,  who  had  her 
own  private  reason  for  knowing  Tom  at  any  distance. 

"Mrs.  Livingstone,  I'll  venture  to  say,"  groaned  Mrs. 
Graham,  burying  her  lace  cap  and  flaxen  hair  still  farther 
in  the  silken  cushions.*  "Just  because  I  stopped  there  a 
few  days  last  summer,  she  thinks  she  must  run  here  every 
week  ;  and  there's  no  way  of  escaping  her.  Do  shut  that 
blind ;  it  lets  hi  so  much  light.  There,  would  you  think 
I'd  been  crying?" 


214  'LENA  III  VEILS. 

"Lor'  no,"  returned  the  stupid  servant,   "Lor'  no,  I 
should  sooner  think  your  eyes  and  face  were  swelled  with 


"  The  Lord  help  me,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Graham,  "  you 
don't  begin  to  know  as  much  as  poor  Charlotte  did.  She 
was  a  jewel,  and  I  don't  see  any  thing  what  she  wanted  to 
die  for,  just  as  I  had  got  her  well  trained  ;  but  that's  all 
the  thanks  I  ever  get  for  my  goodness.  Now  go  quick, 
and  tell  her  I've  got  an  excruciating  headache." 

"  If  you  please,  miss,"  said  the  girl,  trying  in  vain  to 
master  the  big  word,  "  if  you  please,  give  me  somethin' 
shorter,  'case  I  done  forgit  that  ar,  sartin'." 

"  Fool  !  Idiot  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Graham,  hurling,  for 
want  of  something  better,  one  of  her  satin  slippers  at  the 
woolly  head,  which  dodged  out  of  the  door  in  time  to 
avoid  it. 

"  Is  your  mistress  at  home  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
and  Martha,  uncertain  what  answer  she  was  to  make,  re 
plied,  "  Yes  —  no  —  I  dun  know,  'case  she  done  driv  me 
out  afore  I  know'd  whether  she  was  at  home  or  not." 

"  Martha,  show  the  lady  this  way,"  called  out  Mrs.  Gra 
ham,  who  was  listening.  "  Ah,  Mrs.  Livingstone,  is  it 
you.  I'm  glad  to  see  you,"  said  she,  half  rising  and  sha 
ding  her  swollen  eyes  with  her  hand,  as  if  the  least  effort 
were  painful.  "  You  must  excuse  my  dishabille,  for  I  am 
suffering  from  a  bad  headache,  and  when  Martha  said 
some  one  had  come,  I  thought  at  first  I  could  not  see  them, 
but  you  are  always  welcome.  How  have  you  been  this  long 
time,  and  why  have  you  neglected  me  so,  when  you  know 
how  1  must  feel  the  change  from  Louisville,  where  I  was 
constantly  in  society,  to  this  dreary  neighborhood  ?  "  and 
the  lady  lay  back  upon  the  sofa,  exhausted  with  and  as 
tonished  at  her  own  eloquence. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  was  quite  delighted  with  her  friend's 


THE  VISIT.  215 

unusual  cordiality,  and  seating  herself  in  the  large,  easy 
chair,  began  to  make  herself  very  agreeable,  offering  to 
bathe  Mrs.  Graham's  aching  head,  which  kind  offer  the 
lady  declined,  bethinking  herself  of  sundry  gray  hairs, 
which  a  close  inspection  would  single  out  from  among  her 
flaxen  tresses. 

^ "  Are  your  family  all  well  ?  »  she  asked ;  to  which  Mrs. 
Livingstone  replied  that  they  were,  at  the  same  time 
speaking  of  her  extreme  loneliness  since  Mabel  left 
them. 

"Ah,  you  mean  the  little  dark-eyed  brunette,  whom  1 
saw  with  you  at  my  party.  She  was  a  nice-looking  girl 

-showed  that  she  came  of  a  good  family.  I  think  every- 
thing  of  that.  I  believe  I'd  rather  Durward  would  marrv 
a  poor  aristocrat,  than  a  wealthy  plebeian— one  whose 
family  were  low  and  obscure." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  wondered  what  she  thought  of  her 
family,  the  Livingstones.     The  Richards'  blood  she  knew 
was  good,  but  the  Nichols'  was  rather  doubtful     Still 
she  would  for  once  make  the  best  of  it,  so  she  hastened 

say  that  few  American  ladies  were  so  fortunate  as  Mrs 

rraham  had  been  in  marrying  a  nobleman.    «  In  this  coun- 

try  we  have  no  nobility,  you  know,"  said  she,  "and  any 

» who  gets  rich  and  into  good  society,  is  classed  with 
the  nrst." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  returned  Mrs.  Graham,  "but  in  mv 
mmd  there's  a  great  difference.  Now,  Mr.  Graham's  an- 
cestors  boast  of  the  best  blood  of  South  Carolina,  while 
my  family,  everybody  knows,  was  one  of  the  first  in  Vir 
gm,a,  so  if  Durward  had  been  Mr.  Graham's  son  instead 
Sir  Arthur's,  I  should  be  just  as  proud  of  him,  just  as 
particular  whom  he  married." 

"Certainly,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  a  little  piqued 
for  there  was  something  in  Mrs.  Graham's  manner  which 


216  'LENA  RIVERS. 

annoyed  her — "  certainly — I  understand  you.  I  neither 
married  a  nobleman,  nor  one  of  the  best  bloods  of  South 
Carolina,  and  still  I  should  not  be  willing  for  my  son  to 
marry — iet  me  see — well,  say  'Lena  Rivers." 

"'Lena  Rivers  !  "  repeated  Mrs.  Graham — "why,  I 
would  not  suffer  Durward  to  look  at  her,  if  I  could  help 
it.  She's  of  a  horridly  low  family  on  b©th  sides,  as  I  am 
told." 

This  was  a  home  thrust  which  Mrs.  Livingstone  could 
not  endure  quietly,  and  as  she  had  no  wish  to  defend  the 
royalty  of  a  family  which  she  herself  despised,  she  deter 
mined  to  avenge  the  insult  by  making  her  companion  as 
uncomfortable  as  possible.  So  she  said,  "Perhaps  you  are 
not  aware  that  your  son's  attentions  to  this  same  'Lena 
Rivers,  are  becoming  somewhat  marked." 

"  No,  I  was  not  aware  of  it,"  and  the  greenish-gray 
eyes  fastened  inquiringly  upon  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  con 
tinued:  "It  is  nevertheless  true,  and  as  I  can  appreciate 
your  feelings,  I  thought  it  might  not  be  out  of  place  for 
me  to  warn  you." 

"  Thank  you,"  returned  Mrs.  Graham,  now  raising  her 
self  upon  her  elbow ;  "  Thank  you — but  do  you  know 
anything  positive  ?  What  has  Durward  done  ?  " 

"'Lena  is  in  Frankfort  now,  at  Mr.  Douglass',"  an 
swered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  "  and  your  son  is  in  the  constant 
habit  of  visiting  there ;  besides  that,  he  invited  her  to 
ride  with  him  when  they  all  went  to  Frankfort — 'Lena 
upon  the  gray  pony  which  your  husband  gave  her  as  a 
Christmas  present." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  had  touched  the  right  spot.  'Twaa 
the  first  intimation  of  Vesta  which  Mrs.  Graham  had  re 
ceived,  and  now  sitting  bolt  upright,  she  demanded  what 
Mrs.  Livinstone  meant.  "  My  husband  give  'Lena  Rivera 


THE  VISIT.  217 

a  pony !     Harry  Graham  do  such  a  thing !     It  can't  be 
possible.     There  must  be  some  mistake." 

"I  think  not,"  returned  Mrs.  Livingstone.  "Your  son 
came  over  with  it,  saying  <  it  was  a  present  from  his  father, 
who  sent  it,  together  with  his  compliments.' " 

Back  among  her  cushions  tumbled  Mrs.  Graham,  moan 
ing,  groaning,  and  pronouncing  herself  wholly  heart 
broken.  "  I  knew  he  was  bad,"  said  she,  "  But  I  never 
dreamed  it  had  come  to  this.  And  I  might  have  known 
it,  too,  for  from  the  moment  he  first  saw  that  girl,  he  has 
acted  like  a  crazy  creature.  Talks  about  her  in  his  sleep 
— wants  me  to  adopt  her — keeps  his  eyes  on  her  every 
minute  when  he's  where  she  is ;  and  to  crown  all,  with 
out  consulting  me,  his  lawful  wife,  he  has  made  her  a 
present,  which  must  have  cost  more  than  a  hundred  dol 
lars  !  And  she  accepted  it — the  vixen ! " 

"  That's  the  worst  feature  in  the  case,"  said  Mrs.  Liv- 
ingstone.  "  I  have  always  been  suspicious  of  'Lena, 
knowing  what  her  mother  was,  but  I  must  confess  I  did 
not  think  her  quite  so  presumptuous  as  to  accept  so  costly 
a  present  from  a  gentleman,  and  a  married  one,  too.  But 
she  has  a  peculiar  way  of  making  them  think  what  she 
does  is  right,  and  neither  my  husband  nor  John  Jr.  can 
see  any  impropriety  in  her  keeping  Vesta.  Carrie 
wouldn't  have  done  such  a  thing." 

"  Indeed  she  wouldn't.  She  is  too  well-bred  for  that," 
said  Mrs.  Graham,  who  had  been  completely  won  by  Car 
rie's  soft  speeches  and  fawning  manner. 

This  compliment  to  her  daughter  pleased  Mrs.  Living 
stone,  who  straightway  proceeded  to  build  Carrie  up  still 
higher,  by  pulling  'Lena  down.  Accordingly,  every  little 
thing  which  she  could  remember,  and  many  which  she 
could  not,  were  told  in  an  aggravated  manner,  until  quite 
a  case  was  made  out,  and  'Lena  would  never  have  recog 
J 


318  'LENA   RIVERS. 

nized  herself  in  the  artful,  designing  creature  which  her 
aunt  kindly  pictured  her  to  be. 

"  Of  course,"  said  she,  "  if  you  ever  repeat  this,  you 
will  not  use  my  name,  for  as  she  is  my  husband's  niece, 
it  will  not  look  well  in  me  to  be  proclaiming  her  vices, 
except  in  cases  where  I  think  it  my  duty." 

M  rs.  Graham  was  too  much  absorbed  in  her  own  reflec 
tions  to  make  a  reply,  and  as  Mrs.  Livingstone  saw  that 
her  company  was  hardly  desired,  she  soon  arose  to  go,  ask 
ing  Mrs.  Graham  "why  she  did  not  oftener .visit  Maple 
Grove." 

When  Mrs.  Graham  felt  uncomfortable,  she  liked  to 
make  others  so,  too,  and  to  her  friend's  question  she  an 
swered,  "I  may  as  well  be  plain  as  not,  and  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  should  enjoy  visiting  you  very  much,  were  it 
not  for  one  thing.  "  That  mother  of  yours — " 

"  Of  my  husband's,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Livingstone,  and 
Mrs.  Graham  continued  just  where  she  left  off. 

"  Annoys  me  exceedingly,  by  eternally  tracing  in  me  a 
resemblance  to  some  down  east  creature  or  other — what 
is  her  name — Sco — Sco — Scovandyke ;  yes,  that's  it — Sco- 
vandyke.  Of  course  its  not  pleasant  for  me  to  be  told 
every  time  I  meet  your  mother — " 

"  Mr.  Livingstone's  mother,"  again  interrupted  the 
lady. 

"  That  I  look  like  some  of  her  acquaintances,  for  I 
contend  that  families  of  high  birth  bear  with  them  marka 
which  cannot  be  mistaken." 

"  Certainly,  certainly,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  adding, 
that  "  she  was  herself  continually  annoyed  by  Mrs.  Nich 
ols'  vulgarity,  but  her  husband  insisted  that  she  should 
aome  to  the  table,  so  what  could  she  do?" 

.And  mutually  troubled,  the  one  about  her  husband,  and 


THE  VISIT.  219 

the  other  about  her  husband's  mother,  the  two  amiable 
ladies  parted. 

Scarcely  was  Mrs.  Livingstone  gone  when  Mr.  Graham 
entered  the  room,  finding  his  wife,  who  had  heard  his 
footsteps,  in  violent  hysterics.  He  had  seen  her  so  too 
often  to  be  alarmed,  and  was  about  to  pull  the  bell-rope, 
when  she  found  voice  to  bid  him  desist,  sayino-  it  was 
himself,  who  was  killing  her  by  inches,  and  that  the  sooner 
she  was  dead,  the  better  she  supposed  he  would  like  it 
"But,  for  my  sake,"  she  added,  in  a  kind  of  howl  be* 
tween  crying  and  scolding,  "do  try  to  behave  yourself 
during  the  short  time  I  have  to  live,  and  not  go  to  givirio- 
away  ponies,  and  mercy  knows  what." 

Now,  Mr.  Graham  was  not  conscious  of  havino-  looked 
at  a  lady,  except  through  the  window,for  many  d°ays  and 
when  his  wife  first  attacked  him,  he  was  at  a  great  loss  to 
understand;  but  as  she  proceeded  it  all  became  plain 
and  on  the  whole,  he  felt  glad  that  the  worst  was  over' 
He  would  not  acknowledge,  even  to  himself,  that  he  was 
afraid  of  his  wife,  and  still  he  had  a  little  rather  she  would 
not  always  know  what  he  did.     He  supposed,  as  a  matter 
>i  course,  that  she  would,  earlier  or  later,  hear  of  his 
present  to  'Lena,  and  he  well  knew  that  such  an  event 
would  surely  be  followed  by  a  storm,  but  after  what  had 
taken  place  between  them  that  morning,  he  did  not  ex- 
pect  so  much  feeling,  for  he  had  thought  her  wrath  nearly 
expended.     But  Mrs.  Graham  was  capable  of  great  things 
-as  she  proved  on  this  occasion,  taunting  her  husband 
with  his  preference  for  'Lena,  accusing  him  of  loving  her 
better  than  he  did  herself,  and  asking  him  plainly  if  it 
were  not  so. 

"  Say,"  she  continued,  stamping  her  foot,  (the  one  with, 
out  a  slipper,)  «  say— I  will  be  answered.  Don't  you  like 
•Lena  better  than  you  do  me  ?» 


220  'LESA  RIVERS. 

Mr.  Graham  was  provoked  beyond  endurance,  and  tc 
the  twice  repeated  question,  he  at  length  replied,  "  God 
knows  I've  far  more  reason  to  love  her  than  I  have  you," 
At  the  same  moment  he  left  the  room,  hi  tune  to  avoid  a 
Bight  of  the  collapsed  state  into  which  his  horrified  wife, 
who  did  not  expect  such  an  answer,  had  fallen. 

"Can  I  tell  her?  oh,  dare  I  tell  her?"  he  thought,  as 
he  wiped  the  drops  of  perspiration  from  his  brow,  and 
groaned  in  the  bitterness  of  his  spirit.  Terribly  was  he 
expiating  his  fault,  but  at  last  he  grew  calmer,  and  cow 
ardice  (for  he  was  cowardly,  else  he  had  never  been  what 
he  was)  whispered,."  Wait  yet  awhile.  Anything  for  do 
mestic  peace." 

So  the  secret  was  buried  still  deeper  in  his  bosom,  he 
never  thinking  how  his  conduct  would  in  the  end  injure 
the  young  girl,  dearer  to  him  far  than  his  own  life. 
While  he  sat  thus  alone  in  his  room,  and  as  his  wife  lay 
upon  her  sofa,  Durward  entered  the  parlor,  and  began 
good-humoredly  to  rally  his  mother  upon  her  wobegone 
iace,  asking  what  was  the  matter  now. 

"  Oh,  you  poor  boy,  you,"  she  sobbed,  "  you'll  soon 
have  no  mother  to  go  to,  but  you  must  attribute  my  death 
wholly  to  your  step-father,  who  alone  will  be  to  blame  for 
making  you  an  orphan  ! " 

Durward  knew  his  mother  well,  and  he  thought  he 
knew  his  father  too,  and  while  he  respected  him,  he  blamed 
her  for  the  unreasonable  whims  of  which  he  was  becom 
ing  weary.  He  knew  there  had  been  a  jar  in  the  morn 
ing,  but  he  had  supposed  that  settled,  and  now,  when 
he  found  his  mother  ten  times  worse  than  ever,  he  felt  half 
vexed,  and  said,  "  Do  be  a  woman,  mother,  and  not  give 
way  to  such  fancies.  I  really  wonder  father  shows  as 
much  patience  with  you  as  he  does,  for  you  make  our 
home  very  unpleasant ;  and  really,"  he  continued,  in  a 


THE  VISIT.  221 

laughing  tone,  "  if  this  goes  on  much  longer,  I  shall,  ic 
aelf-defense,  get  me  a  wife  andliomc  of  my  own." 

"  And  if  report  is  true,  that  wife  will  be  'Lena  Rivers," 
said  Mrs.  Graham,  in  order  to  try  hkn. 

"  Very  likely — T  can't  tell  what  may  be,"  was  his  an- 
swcr ;  to  which  Mrs.  Graham  replied,  "  that  it  would  bo 
extremely  pleasant  to  marry  a  bride  with  whom  one's 
father  was  in  love." 

"  How  ridiculous  ! "  Durward  exclaimed.  "  As  though 
my  father  cared  aught  for  'Lena,  except  to  admire  her  for 
her  beauty  and  agreeable  manners." 

"  But,  he's  acknowledged  it.  He's  just  told  me,  *  God 
knew  he  loved  her  better  than  he  did  me.'  What  do  you 
think  of  that?"  . 

"  Did  Mr.  Graham  say  that  ?"  asked  Durward,  looking 
his  mother  directly  in  her  face. 

"  Yes  he  did,  not  fifteen  minutes  before  you  came  in, 
and  it's  not  a  secret,  either.  Others  know  it  and  talk 
about  it.  Think  of  his  giving  her  that  pony." 

Durward  was  taken  by  surprise.  Knowing  none  of 
the  circumstances,  he  felt  deeply  pained  at  his  father's  re 
mark,  lie  had  always  supposed  he  liked  'Lena,  and  ho 
was  glad  of  it,  too,  but  to  love  her  more  than  his  own 
wife,  was  a  different  thing,  and  for  the  first  time  in  his 
]it'«'  Durward  distrusted  his  father.  Still, 'Lena  was  not 
to  blame  ;  there  was  comfort  in  that ;  and  that  very  after 
noon  found  him  again  at  her  side,  admiring  her  more  and 
more,  and  learning  each  time  he  saw  her  to  love  her  bet 
ter.  And  she — she  dared  not  confess  to  herself  how  dear 
lie  was  to  her— she  d:uvd  not  hope  her  affection  was  re 
turned.  She  could  not  think  of  the  disappointment  the 

fut  urc  might  bring,  so  she  lived  on  the  present,  waiting 
.in\i<>usly  lor  his  coming,  ami  striving  hard  t<>  do  tlnj 
the  things  which  slu-  thought  would  please  him  best. 


222  'LENA  RIVETIS. 

True  to  her  promise,  Mabel  had  commenced  giving  her 
Instructions  upon  the  piano,  and  they  were  in  the  midst 
of  their  first  lesson,  when  who  should  walk  in,  but  Mon 
sieur  Du  Pont,  bowing,  and  saying  "  he  had  been  hired 
by  von  nice  gentleman,  to  give  Madamoiselle  Rivers  les 
sons  in  musique." 

'Lena  immediately  thought  of  her  uncle,  who  had  once 
proposed  her  sharing  in  the  instructions  of  her  cousin,  but 
who,  as  usual,  was  overruled  by  his  wife. 

"  'Twas  my  uncle,  was  it  not  ?"  she  asked  of  Du  Pont, 
who  replied,  "  I  promised  not  to  tell.  He  say,  though,  he 
connected  with  mademoiselle." 

And  'Lena,  thinking  it  was  of  course  Mr.  Livingstone, 
who,  on  his  wife's  account,  wished  it  a  secret,  readily  con 
sented  to  receive  Du  Pont  as  a  teacher  in  place  of  Mabel, 
who  still  expressed  her  willingness  to  assist  her  whenever 
it  was  necessary.  Naturally  fond  of  music,  'Lena's  im 
provement  was  rapid,  and  when  she  found  how  gratified 
Durward  appeared,  she  redoubled  her  exertions,  prac 
ticing  always  five,  and  sometimes  six  hours  a  day. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

FATHER'S  LOVE, 


WHEN  it  was  known  at  Maple  Grove  that  'Lena  was 
taking  lessons  of  Du  Pont,  it  was  naturally  supposed  that 
Mabel,  as  she  had  first  proposed,  paid  the  bills. 

"  Mighty  kind  in  her,  and  no  mistake,"  said  John  Jr., 
throwing  aside  the  stump  of  a  cigar  which  he  had  been 


A  FATHER'S  LOVE.  22 J5 

smoking,  and  thinking  to  himself  that  "  Mabel  was  a  nico 
girl,  after  all." 

The  next  day,  finding  the  time  hang  heavily  upon  his 
hands,  he  suddenly  wondered  why  he  had  never  thought 
to  call  upon  'Lena.  "  To  be  sure,  I'll  feel  awfully  to  go 
where  Nelly  used  to  be,  and  know  she  is  not  there,  but 
it's  lonesomer  than  a  grave-yard  here,  and  I'm  bound  to 
do  something." 

So  saying,  he  mounted  Firelock  and  started  off',  fol 
lowed  by  no  regrets  from  his  mother  or  sisters,  for  since 
Nellie  went  away  he  had  been  intolerably  cross  and  fault 
finding.  He  found  a  servant  in  the  door,  so  he  was  saved 
the  trouble  of  ringing,  and  entering  unannounced,  walked 
noiselessly  to  the  parlor-door,  which  was  ajar.  'Lena, -as 
usual,  sat  at  the  piano,  wholly  absorbed,  while  over  her 
bent  Mabel,  who  was  assisting  her  in  the  lesson,  speaking 
encouragingly,  and  patiently  helping  her  through  all  the 
difficult  places.  Mabel's  health  was  improved  since  first 
we  saw  her,  and  though  she  was  still  plain — ugly,  many 
would  say — there  was  something  pleasing  in  her  face,  and 
in  the  expression  of  her  black  eyes,  which  looked  down 
so  kindly  upon  'Lena.  John  Jr.  noticed  it,  and  never  be 
fore  had  Mabel  appeared  to  so  good  advantage  to  him  as 
she  did  at  that  moment,  as  he  watched  her  through  the 
open  door. 

At  last  the  lesson  was  finished,  and  rising  up,  'Lena  said, 
"  I  know  I  should  never  learn  if  it  were  not  for  you,"  at 
the  same  time  winding  her  arm  about  Mabel's  neck  and 
kissing  her  glowing  cheek. 

"  Let  me  have  a  share  of  that,"  exclaimed  John  Jr.. 
stepping  forward  and  clasping  both  the  girls  in  his  arms, 
ere  they  were  aware  of  his  presence. 

With  a  gay  laugh  they  shook  him  off,  and  'Lena,  lead- 
ing  him  to  the  sofa,  sat  down  beside  him,  askino-  numer. 


224  'LENA   RIVERS. 

ous  questions  about  home  and  her  grandmother.  Johh 
answered  them  all,  and  then,  oh  how  he  longed  to  ask  if 
there  had  come  any  tidings  of  the  absent  one;  but  he 
would  not — she  had  left  him  of  her  own  accord,  and  he 
had  sworn  never  to  inquire  for  her.  So  he  sat  gazing 
dreamily  upon  her  piano,  the  chair  she  used  to  occupy, 
and  the  books  she  used  to  read,  until  'Lena,  either  divi 
ning  his  thoughts,  or  fancying  he  would  wish  to  know, 
said,  "  We've  not  heard  from  Nellie  since  she  left  us." 

"  You  didn't  expect  to,  so  soon,  I  suppose,"  was  John's 
indifferent  reply. 

"  Why,  no,  not  unless  they  chanced  to  speak  a  ship.  I 
wish  they'd  taken  a  steamer  instead  of  a  sailing  vessel," 
Baid  'Lena. 

"  I  suppose  Mr.  Wilbur  had  an  eye  upon  the  long,  cozy 
chats  he  could  have  with  Nellie,  looking  out  upon  the 
sea,"  was  John's  answer,  while  Mabel  quickly  rejoined, 
that  ."  he  had  chosen  a  sailing  vessel  solely  on  Mary's 

account." 

In  the  midst  of  their  conversation,  the  door-bell  rang ; 
and  a  moment  after,  Durward  was  ushered  into  the  par 
lor.  "  He  was  in  town  on  business,"  lie  said,  "  and  thought 
he  would  call." 

Scarcely  had  he  taken  his  seat,  when  again  the  door 
opened,  this  time  admitting  Mr.  Graham,  who  was^  re- 
turning  from  Louisville,  and  had  also  found  it  convenient 
to  call.  Involuntarily  Durward  glanced  toward  'Lena, 
but  her  face  was  as  calm  and  unruffled  as  if  the  visitor  had 
been  her  uncle. 

"All  right  there,"  thought  hr,  and  withdrawing  his 
eyes  fromlier,  he  fixed  them  upo  i  his  father,  who  he  fan 
cied  seemed  somewhat  disconcerted  when  he  saw  him 
there.  Mentally  blaming  himself  for  the  distrust  which 
he  felt  rising  within  him,  he  still  determined  to  watch. 


i  FATHER'S   LOVE.  2^5 

and  judge  for  himself  how  far  his  mothers  suspicions  were 
correct.  Taking  up  a  book  which  lay  near,  he  pretended 
to  be  reading,  while  all  the  time  his  thoughts  were  else 
where.  It  was  'Lena's  lesson-day,  and  erelong  Du  Pont 
came  in,  appearing  both  pleased  and  surprised  when  he 
saw  Mr.  Graham. 

"  I  hope  you  don't  expect  me  to  expose  my  ignorance 
before  all  these  people,"  said  'Lena,  as  Du  Pont  motioned 
her  to  the  stool. 

"  Suppose  we  adjourn  to  another  room,"  said  Mabel, 
leading  the  way,  and  followed  by  John  Jr.  only. 

Durward  at  first  thought  of  leaving  also,  and  arose  to 
do  so,  but  on  observing  that  his  father  showed  no  inten 
tion  of  going,  he  resumed  his  seat  and  book,  poring  over 
the  latter  as  intently  as  if  it  had  not  been  wrong  side  up  ! 

"  Does  monsieur  incline  to  stay,"  asked  Du  Pont,  as 
Mr.  Graham  took  his  station  at  the  end  of  the  piano. 

"  Certainly,"  answered  Mr.  Graham,  "  unless  Miss  Riv 
ers  insists  upon  my  leaving,  which  I'm  sure  she  would  no* 
do  if  she  knew  how  much  interest  I  take  in  her  progress." 

So,  during  the  entire  lesson,  Mr.  Graham  stood  there, 
his  eyes  fixed  upon  'Lena  with  a  look  which  puzzled  Dur 
ward,  who  from  behind  his  book  was  watching  him.  Ad 
miration,  affection,  pity,  and  remorse,  all  seemed  mingled 
in  the  expression  of  his  face,  and  as  Durward  watched,  he 
felt  that  there  was  a  something  which  he  could  not  fathom. 

"  I  never  knew  he  was  so  fond  of  music,"  thought  he— 
"  I  mean  to  put  him  to  the  test." 

Accordingly,  when  Du  Pont  was  gone,  he  asked  Mabel, 
who  he  knew  was  an  excellent  pianist,  to  favor  him  with 
one  of  her  very  best  pieces — "  something  lively  and  new, 
Which  will  wake  us  up,"  said  he. 

Mabel  would  greatly  have  preferred  remaining  with 
John  Jr.,  but  she  was  habitually  polite,  always  playing 
J*  15 


226  'LENA   RIVERS. 

when  invited,  and  now  taking  her  seat  at  the  piano,  she 
brought  out  sounds  far  different  from  those  of  anew  per 
former.  But  Mr.  Graham,  if  he  heard  it,  did  not  heed  it, 
his  eyes  and  ears  being  alone  for  'Lena.  Seating  himself 
near  her,  he  commenced  talking  to  her  in  an  undertone, 
apparently  oblivious  to  everything  else  around  him,  and  it 
was  not  until  Durward  twice  asked  how  he  liked  Mabel's 
playing,  that  he  heard  a  note.  Then,  starting  up  and  go 
ing  toward  the  instrument,  he  said,  "  Ah,  yes,  that  was  a 
fine  march,  ('t  was  the  "  Rainbow  Schottish,"  then  new,) 
please  repeat  it,  or  something  just  like  it !  " 

Durward  bit  his  lip,  while  Mabel,  in  perfect  good  hu 
mor,  dashed  off  into  a  spirited  quickstep,  receiving  but 
little  attention  from  Mr.  Graham,  who  seemed  in  a  strange 
mood  to-day,  scribbling  upon  a  piece  of  white  paper  which 
lay  upon  the  piano,  and  of  which  Durward  managed  to 
get  possession,  finding  thereon  the  name,  "  Helena  Nich 
ols,"  to  which  was  added  that  of  "  Rivers,"  the  Nichols 
being  crossed  out.  It  would  seem  as  if  both  father  and 
son  were  determined  each  to  outstay  the  other,  for  hour 
after  hour  went  by  and  neither  spoke  of  leaving,  although 
John  Jr.  had  been  gone  some  time.  At  last,  as  the  sun 
was  setting,  Durward  arose  to  go,  asking  if  his  father  con 
templated  spending  the  night ;  "  and  if  so,"  said  he,  with 
a  meaning  in  his  manner,  "  where  shall  I  tell  my  mother 
Heft  you?" 

This  roused  Mr.  Graham,  who  said  he  was  only  waiting 
for  his  son  to  start,  adding,  that  "  he  could  not  find  it  in 
his  heart  to  tear  him  away  from  two  so  agreeable  ladies, 
for  he  well  remembered  the  weakness  of  his  own  youth." 
"  In  your  second  youth,  now,  I  fancy,"  thought  Dur 
ward,  watching  him  as  he  bade  'Lena  and  Mabel  good-by, 
and  failing  not  to  see  how  much  longer  he  held  the  hand 
of  the  former  tJ^an  he  did  of  the  latter. 


A  FATHER'S  LOVE.  227 

"  Does  she  see  as  I  do,  or  not  ?  »  thought  he,  as  he  took 
the  hand  his  father  dropped,  and  looked  earnestly  into 
the  clear,  brown  eyes,  which  returned  his  inquiring  glanco 
with  one  open  and  innocent  as  a  little  child. 

"All  right  here,"  again  thought  Durward,  slightly 
pressing  the  soft,  warm  hand  he  held  in  his  own,  and  smil 
ing  down  upon  her  when  he  saw  how  quickly  that  pres 
sure  brought  the  tell-tale  blood  to  her  cheek. 

****** 

"Durward,"  said  Mr.  Graham,  after  they  were  out  of 
the  city,  "  I  have  a  request  to  make  of  you." 

"Well." 

The  answer  .was  very  short  and  it  was  several  minutes 
ere  Mr.  Graham  again  spoke. 

"  You  know  your  mother  as  well  as  I  do " 

"Well." 

Another  silence,  and  Mr.  Graham  continued :  "  You 
know  how  groundlessly  jealous  she  is  of  me— and  it  may 

DO  just  as  well  for  her  not  to  know  that " 

^  Here  he  paused,  and  Durward  finished  the  sentence  for 
him. 

"  Just  as  weU  for  her  not  to  know  that  you've  spent  the 
afternoon  with  'Lena  Rivers ;  is  that  it  ?  " 

"  That's  it— yes— yes  "—answered  Mr.  Graham,  adding 
ere  Durward  had  time  to  utter  the  angry  words  which  he 
felt  rising  within  him,  "  I  wish  you'd  marry  'Lena." 

This  was  so  sudden— so  different  from  anything  which 
Durward  had  expected,  that  he  was  taken  quite  by  sur- 
prise,  and  it  was  some  little  time  ere  he  answered,  "Per- 
haps  I  shall." 

"I  wish  you  would,"  continued  Mr.  Graham.  "I'd  wil 
lingly  give  every  dollar  I'm  worth  for  the  privilege  of 
calling  her  my  daughter." 

Durward  was  confounded,  and  knew  not  what  to  think 


228  'LENA   RIVERS. 

If  his  father  had  an  undue  regard  for  'Lena  why  shouid 
he  wish  to  see  her  the  wife  of  another,  and  that  other  hia 
son  ?  Was  it  his  better  and  nobler  nature  struggling  to 
save  her  from  evil,  which  prompted  the  wish  ?  Durward 
hoped  so— he  believed  so  ;  and  the  confidence  which  had 
BO  recently  been  shaken,  was  fully  restored,  when,  by  the 
light  of  the  hall  lamp  at  home,  he  saw  how  white  and  al 
most  ghostly  was  the  face  which,  ere  they  entered  the 
drawing-room,  turned  imploringly  upon  him,  asking  him 
"  to  be  careful." 

Mrs.  Graham  had  been  in  a  fit  of  the  sulks  ever  since 
the  morning  of  Mrs.  Livingstone's  call,  and  now,  though 
she  had  not  seen  her  husband  for  several  days,  she  merely 
held  out  her  hand,  turning  her  head,  meantime,  and  re 
plying  to  his  question  in  a  low,  quiet  kind  of  a  much-in 
jured-woman  way,  as  provoking  as  it  was 'uncalled  for. 

*  *  *  *  *  * 

"  Father's  suggestion  was  a  good  one,"  thought  Dur 
ward,  when  he  had  retired  to  rest.   "  'Lena  is  too  beauti 
ful  to  be  alone  in  the  world.     I  will  propose  to  her  at 
-  once,  and  she  will  thus  be  out  of  danger." 

But  what  should  he  do  with  her  ?  Should  he  bring  her 
there  to  Woodlawn,  where  scarcely  a  day  passed  without 
some  domestic  storm?  No,  his  home  should  be  fuU  of 
sunlight,  of  music  and  flowers,  where  no  angry  word  or 
darkening  frown  could  ever  find  entrance ;  and  thus  dream 
ing  of  a  blissful  future,  when  'Lena  should  be  hia  bride,  he 
fell  asleep. 


JOEL  SLOCUM.  220 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

JOEL     8LO  CUM. 

IN  this  chapter  it  may  not  be  out  of  place  to  introduce 
an  individual  who,  though  not  a  very  important  person- 
age,  is  still  in  some  degree  connected  with  our  story.  On 
the  night  when  Durward  and  his  father  were  riding  home 
from  Frankfort,  the  family  at  Maple  Grove,  with  the  ex 
ception  of  grandma,  were  as  usual  assembled  in  the  par 
lor.  John  Jr.  had  returned,  and  purposely  telling  his 
mother  and  Carrie  whom  he  had  left  with  'Lena,  had  suc 
ceeded  in  putting  them  both  into  an  uncomfortable  hu 
mor,  the  latter  secretly  lamenting  the  mistake  which  she 
had  committed  in  suffering  'Lena  to  stay  with  Mabel. 
But  it  could  not  be  remedied  now.  There  was  no  good 
reason  for  calling  her  home,  and  the  lady  broke  at  least 
three  cambric-needles  hi  her  vigorous  jerks  at  the  handker 
chief  she  was  hemming. 

A  heavy  tread  upon  the  piazza,  a  loud  ring  of  the  bell, 
and  Carrie  straightened  up,  thinking  it  might  possibly  be 
Durward,  who  had  called  on  his  way  home,  but  the  voice 
was  strange,  and  rather  impatiently  she  waited. 

"  Does  Mr.  John  Livingstone  live  here  ?  "  asked  the 
stranger  of  the  negro  who  answered  the  summons. 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  the  servant,  eyeing  the  new 
comer  askance. 

"  And  is  old  Miss  Nichols  and  Helleny  to  hum  ?  " 

The  negro  grinned,  answering  in  the  affirmative,  and 
asking  the  young  man  to  walk  in. 

"  Wall,  guess  I  will,"  said  he,  advancing  a  few  steps 
toward  the  parlor  door.  Then  suddenly  halting,  he  ad~ 
ded,  more  to  himself  than  to  the  negro,  "  Darned  if  .1 


230  'LENA  RIVERS. 

don't  go  the  hull  figger,  and  send  in  my  card  as  they  do 
to  Boston." 

So  saying,  he  drew  from  his  pocket  an  embossed  card, 
and  bending  his  knee  for  a  table,  he  wrote  with  sundry 
flourishes,  "  Mr.  Joel  Slocum,  Esq.,  Slocumville,  Massa 
chusetts." 

"There,  hand  that  to  >  our  boss,"  said  he,  "and  ,ell 
him  I'm  out  in  the  entry."  At  the  same  time  he  stepped 
before  the  hat-stand,  rubbing  up  his  oily  hair,  and  think* 
ing  "Mr.  Joel  Slocum  would  make  an  imp,  ssion  any 
where." 

"  Who  is  it,  Ben  ?  "  whispered  Carrie. 
"  Dunno,  miss,"  said  the  negro,  passing  the  card  to  his 
master,  and  waiting  in  silence  for  his  orders. 

"  Mr.  Joel  Slocum,  Esq.,  Slocumville,  Massachusetts," 
slowly  read  Mr.  Livingstone,  wondering  where  he  had 
heard  that  name  before. 

"  Who  ?  "  simultaneously  asked  Carrie  and  Anna,  while 
their  mother  looked  wonderingly  up. 

Instantly  John  Jr.  remembered  'Lena's  love-letter,  and 
anticipating  fun,  exclaimed,  "Show  him  hi  Ben— show 
him  in." 

While  Ben  is  showing  him  in,  we  will  introduce  him 
more  fully  to  our  readers,  premising  that  the  picture  is  not 
overdrawn,  but  such  as  we  saw  it  in  our  native  state.  J  oel 
belonged  to  that  extreme  class  of  Yankees  with  which  we 
sometimes,  though  not  often,  meet.  Brought  up  among 
the  New  England  mountains,  he  was  almost  wholly  igno 
rant  of  what  really  belonged  to  good  manners,  fancying 
that  he  knew  everything,  and  sneering  at  those  of  his  ac 
quaintance  who,  being  of  a  more  quiet  turn  of  mind,  were 
content  to  settle  down  in  the  home  of  their  fathers,  oaring 
iittle  or  nothing  for  the  world  without.  But  as  for  him, 
"  he  was  bound,"  he  said,  "  to  sec  the  elephant,  and  if  hi? 


JOEL  SLOCUM.  231 

brothers  were  green  enough  to  stay  tied  to  their  mother's 
apron-strings,  they  might  do  it,  but  he  wouldn't.  No,  sir  ! 
be  was  going  to  make  something  of  himself." 

To  effect  this,  about  two  years  before  the  time  of  which 
we  are  speaking,  he  went  to  Boston  to  learn  the  art  of 
'•'^uerreotype-taking,  in  which  he  really  did  seem  to  ex- 
<  ,  returning  home  with  some  money,  a  great  deal  of 
Vanity,  and  a  strong  propensity  to  boast  of  what  he  had 
eeenv  Recollections  of  'Lena,  his  early,  and,  as  he  senti 
mentally  expressed  it,  "his  undying,  all-enduring »  love, 
still  haunted  him,  and  at  last  he  determined  upon  a  tour 
to  Kentucky,  purchasing  for  the  occasion  a  rather  fantas 
tic  suit,  consisting  of  greenish  pants,  blue  coat,  red  vest, 
and  yeUow  neck-handkerchief.  These  he  laid  carefully 
by  in  his  trunk  until  he  reached  Lexington,  where  he  in 
tended  stopping  for  a  time,  hanging  out  a  flaming  sign, 
which  announced  his  presence  and  capabilities. 

After  spending  a  few  days  in  the  city,  endeavoring  to 
impress  its  inhabitants  with  a  sense  of  his  consequence, 
and  mentally  styling  them  all  "  Know  Nothings,"  be 
cause  they  did  not  seem  to  be  more  affected,  he  one  af 
ternoon  donned  his  best  suit,  and  started  for  Mr.  Living 
stone's,  thinking  he  should  create  a  sensation  there 
for  wasn't  he  as  good  as  anybody  ?  Didn't  he  learn  his 
trade  in  Boston,  the  very  center  and  source  of  all  the 
isms  of  the  day,  and  ought  not  Mr.  Livingstone  to  feel 
proud  of  such  a  guest,  and  wouldn't  'Lena  stare  when 
she  saw  him  so  much  improved  from  what  he  was  when 
they  picked  checkerberries  together  ? 

With  this  comfortable  opinion  of  himself,  it  is  not  at 
all  probable  that  he  felt  any  misgivings  when  Ben  ushered 
him  at  once  into  the  presence  of  Mr.  Livingstone's  family, 
who  stared  at  him  in  unfeigned  astonishment.  Nothing 
daunted,  he  went  through  with  the  fire  changes  of  a  bow* 


'LENA    RIVERS. 


which  he  had  learned  at  a  dancing-school,  bringing  him- 
solf  up  finally  in  front  of  Mr.  Livingstone,  and  exclaiming, 
«  How-dy-do  ?—  Mr.  Livingstone,  I  s'pose,  though  it  cornea 
more  natural  to  say  cousin  John,  for  I've  hearn  Mitt 
Nichols  and  Aunt  Nancy  talk  of  you  ever  since  I  was  knee 
high,  and  seems  as  how  you  must  be  related.  How  is 
the  old  lady,  and  Helleny,  too.  I  don't  see  'em  here, 
though  I  thought,  at  fust,  this  might  be  her,"  nodding 

to  Anna.  ^^ 

Mr.  Livingstone  was  confounded,  while  his  wTT< 
Strong  intentions  of  ordering  the  intruder  from  tilt  room; 
but  John  Jr.  had  no  such  idea.  He  liked  the  fun,  and 
now  coming  forward,  said,  "  Mr.  Slocum,  as  your  card  in 
dicates,  allow  me  the  pleasure  of  presenting  you  to  my 
mother—  and  sisters  ;  »  at  the  same  time  ringing  the  bell, 
he  ordered  a  servant  to  go  for  his  grandmother. 

"Ah  ladies,  how-dy-do?  Hope  you  are  well  till  we 
are  better  acquainted,"  said  Joel,  bowing  low,  and  sha 
king  out  the  folds  of  his  red  silk  handkerchief,  strongly 
perfumed  with  peppermint. 

Mrs  Livingstone  did  not  even  nod,  Carrie  but  slightly, 
while  Anna  said,  "Good  evening,  Mr.  Slocum." 

"Quickly  observing  Mrs.  Livingstone's  silence,  Joel 
turned  to  John  Jr.,  saying,  "Don't  believe  she  heard 
you—  deaf,  mebby?" 

John  Jr.  nodded,  and  at  that  moment  grandma  ap 
peared,  in  a  great  flurry  to  know  who  wanted  to  seeder. 
Instantly   seizing  her  hand,  Joel  exclaimed,   "Now, 
Aunt  Martha,  if  this  ain't  good  for  sore  eyes. 


Pretty  well,  pretty  well,"  she  returned,  "but  you've 
got  the  better  of  me,  for  I  don't  know  more'n  t 

W^00^owyoutalk,"saidJoel.     "If  this  don't  beat  all 
H 


JOEL  SLOCUM.  233 

my  fust  wife's  relations.  Why,  I  should  have  known 
you  if  I'd  met  you  in  a  porridge-pot.  But  then,  I  s'pose 
I've  altered  for  the  better,  since  I  see  you.  Don't  you 
remember  Joel  Slocum,  that  used  to  have  kind  of  a  snick- 
erin'  notion  after  Helleny  ?  " 

"Why-ee,  I  guess  I  do,"  answered  grandma,  again 
seizing  his  hand.  "  Where  did  you  come  from,  and  why 
Didn't  your  Aunt  Nancy  come  with  you !  " 

"'Tilda,  this  is  Nancy  Scovandyke's  sister's  boy. 
.  'ar'line'and  Anny,  this  is  Joel ;  you've  heard  tell  of  him." 

"I'vefoeen  introduced,  thank  you,"  said  Joel,  taking  a 
*»>at  near  Carrie,  who  haughtily  gathered  up  the  ample 
tolds  of  her  dress,  lest  it  should  be  polluted. 

"  Bashful  critter,  but  she'll  get  over  it  by  the  tune  she's 
seen  as  much  of  the  world  as  I  have,"  soliloquized  Joel ; 
at  the  same  time  thinking  to  make  some  advances,  he 
hitched  a  little  nearer,  and  taking  hold  of  the  strip  of 
embroidery  on  which  she  was  engaged,  he  said,  u  Now, 
du  tell,  if  they've  got  to  workin'  with  floss  way  down 
here.  Waste  of  time,  I  tell  'cm,  this  makin'  holes  for  the 
sake  of  sewin'  'em  up.  But  law !  "  he  added,  as  he  saw 
the  deepening  scowl  on  Carrie's  face,  "  wimmin  may  jest 
as  well  be  putterin'  about  that  as  anything  else,  for  their 
time  ain't  nothin'  more'n  an  old  settin'  hen's." 

This  speech  called  forth  the  first  loud  roar  in  which 
John  Jr.  had  indulged  since  Nellie  went  away,  and  now 
settling  back  in  his  chair,  he  gave  vent  to  his  feelings  in 
peals  of  laughter,  in  which  Joel  also  joined,  thinking  he'd 
said  something,  smart.  When  at  last  he'd  finished  laugh- 
ing,  he  thought  again  of  'Lena,  and  turning  to  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone,  asked  where  she  was,  raising  his  voice  to  a  high 
key  on  account  of  her  supposed  deafness. 

u  Did  you  speak  to  me  ?  "  asked  the  lady,  with  a  look 
which  she  meant  should  annihilate  him.  and  in  a  still  loud 


234  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

er  tone  Joel  repeated  his  question,  asking  Anna,  aside, 
if  her  mother  had  ever  tried  "  McAllister's  All-Healing 
Ointment,"  for  her  deafness,  saying  it  had  "  nighly  cured 
his  grandmother  when  she  was  several  years  older  than 
Mrs.  Livingstone." 

"  Much  obliged  for  your  prescription,  which,  fortunate 
ly,  I  do  not  need,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone,  angrily,  while 
Joel  thought,  "  how  strange  it  was  that  deaf  people  would 
always  hear  in  the  the  wrong  time  !  " 

"Mother  don't  seem  inclined  to  answer  your  question 
concerning  'Lena,"  said  John  Jr.,  "  so  I  will  do  ifrfor  her. 
She  is  in  Frankfort,  taking  music  lessons.  You  used  to 
know  her,  I  believe." 

"Lud,  yes  !  I  chased  her  once  with  a  streaked  snake, 
and  if  she  did't  put  'er  through,  then  I'm  no  judge.  Ta- 
kin'  music  lessons,  is  she?  I'd  give  a  fo'pence  to  hear  her 
play." 

"  Are  you  fond  of  music  ?  "  asked  John  Jr.,  in  hopes  of 
what  followed. 

"  Wall,  I  wouldn't  wonder  much  if  I  was,"  answered 
Joel,  taking  a  tuning-fork  from  his  pocket  and  striking  it 
upon  the  table.  "  I've  kep'  singin'  school  one  term,  be 
sides  leadin'  the  Methodis'  choir  in  Slocumville  ;  so  I  orto 
know  a  little  somethin'  about  it." 

"  Perhaps  you  play,  and  if  so,  we'd  like  to  hear  you," 
continued  John  Jr.,  in  spite  of  the  deprecating  glance 
cast  upon  him  by  Carrie. 

"  Not  such  a  dreadful  sight,"  answered  Joel,  saunter 
ing  toward  the  piano  and  drumming  a  part  of  "  Auld  Lang 
Syne."  "  Not  such  a  dreadful  sight,  but  I  guess  these 
girls  do.  Come,  girls,  play  us  a  jig,  won't  you  ?  " 

"Go,  Cad,  it  wont  hurt  you,"  whispered  John,  but 
Carrie  was  immovable,  and  at  last,  Anna,  who  entered 


JOEL  SLOCUM.  235 

more  into  her  brother's  spirit,  took  her  seat  at  the  instr.i- 
ment,  asking  what  he  would  have. 

"Oh,  give  us  "Money  Musk,"  "Hail  Columby," 
"  Old  Zip  Coon,"  or  anything  to  raise  a  feller's  ideas." 

Fortunately,  Anna's  forte  lay  in  playing  old  music, 
which  she  preferred  to  more  modern  pieces,  and  Joel 
was  soon  beating  time  to  the  lively  strains  of  "  Money 
Musk." 

"  Wall,  I  declare,"  said  he,  when  it  was  ended,  "  I  don't 
see  but  what  you  Kentucky  gals  play  most  as  weh1  as 
they  do  to  hum.  I  did'nt  s'pose  many  on  you  ever  seen 
a  planner.  Come,"  turning  to  Carrie,  "  less  see  what  you 
can  do.  Mebby  you'll  beat  her  all  holler,"  and  he  offered 
his  hand  to  Carrie,  who  rather  petulantly  said  she  "  must 
be  excused." 

"  Oh,  git  out,"  he  continued.  "  You  needn't  feel  so 
bashful,  for  I  shan't  criticise  you  very  hard.  I  know  how 
to  feel  for  new  beginners." 

"  Have  you  been  to  supper,  Mr.  Slocum  ?  "  asked  Mr. 
Livingstone,  pitying  Carrie,  and  wishing  to  put  an  end 
to  the  performance. 

"No,  I  hain't,  and  I'm  hungrier  than  a  bear,"  an 
swered  Joel,  whereupon  Mrs.  Nichols,  thinking  he  was 
lier  guest,  arose,  saying  she  would  see  that  he  had  some. 

When  both  were  gone  to  the  dining-room,  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone's  wrath  boiled  over. 

"  That's  what  comes  of  harboring  your  relatives,"  said 
she,  looking  indignantly  upon  her  husband,  and  adding 
that  she  hoped  "  the  insolent  fellow  did  not  intend  stay- 
big  all  night,  for  if  he  did  he  couldn't." 

"  Do  you  propose  turning  him  into  the  street  ?  "  asked 
Mr.  Livingstone,  looking  up  from  his  paper. 

"  I  don't  propose  anything,  except  that  he  won't  stay 
in  my  house,  and  you  needn't  ask  him." 


L»36  TEN  A  RIVERS. 

"I  hardly  think  an  invitation  is  necessary,  for  I  pre. 
sume  he  expects  to  stay,"  returned  Mr.  Livingstone; 
while  John  Jr.  rejoined,  "Of  course  he  does,  and  if  moth 
er  doesn't  find  him  a  room,  I  shall  take  him  in  with  me, 
besides  going  to  Frankfort  with  him  to-morrow." 

This  was  enough,  for  Mrs.  Livingstone  would  do  al 
most  anything  rather  than  have  her  son  seen  in  the 
city  with  that  specimen.  Accordingly,  when  the  hour 
for  retiring  arrived,  she  ordered  Corinda  to  show  him 
into  the  "  east  chamber,"  a  room  used  for  her  common 
kind  of  visitors,  but  which  Joel  pronounced  "  as  neat  as  a 
fiddle." 

The  next  morning  he  announced  his  intention  of  visit 
ing  Frankfort,  proposing  to  grandma  that  she  should  ac 
company  him,  and  she  was  about  making  up  her  mind  to 
do  so,  when  'Lena  and  Mabel  both  appeared  in  the  yard. 
They  had  come  out  for  a  ride,  they  said,  and  finding  the 
morning  so  fine,  had  extended  their  excursion  as  far  as 
Maple  Grove,  sending  their  servant  back  to  tell  where 
they  were  going.  With  his  usual  assurance,  Joel  ad 
vanced  toward  'Lena,  greeting  her  tenderly,  and  whisper 
ing  in  her  ear  that  "  he  found  she  was  greatly  improved 
as  well  as  himself,"  while  'Lena  wondered  in  what  the  im 
provement  consisted.  She  had  formerly  known  him  as  a 
great,  overgrown,  good-natured  boy,  and  now  she  saw 
him  a  "  conceited  gawky."  Still,  her  manner  was  friend 
ly  toward  him,  for  he  had  come  from  her  old  home,  had 
breathed  the  air  of  her  native  hills,  and  she  well  remem 
bered  how,  years  ago,  he  had  with  her  planted  and  wa 
tered  the  flowers  which  he  told  her  were  still  growing 
at  her  mother's  grave. 

And  yet  there  was  something  about  her  which  puzzled 
Joel,  who  felt  that  the  difference  between  them  was 
great.  He  was  disappointed,  and  the  declaration  which 


THE   DAGUERREOTYPE. 

ne  had  fully  intended  making  was  left  until  another  time, 
when,  as  he  thought,  "  he  shouldn't  be  so  confounded  shy 
of  her."  His  quarters,  too,  at  Maple  Grove  were  not  the 
most  pleasant,  for  no  one  noticed  him  except  grandma 
and  John  Jr.,  and  with  the  conviction  that  "  the  Ken- 
tuckians  didn't  know  what  politeness  meant,"  he  ordered 
his  horse  after  dinner,  and  started  back  to  Lexington,  in 
viting  all  the  family  to  call  and  "  set  for  their  picters,"  say 
ing  that  "  seein'  'twas  them,  he'd  take  'em  for  half  price." 
As  he  was  leaving  the  piazza,  he  turned  back,  and 
drawing  a  large,  square  case  from  his  pocket,  passed  it 
to  'Lena,  saying  it  was  a  daguerreotype  of  her  mountain 
home,  which  he  had  taken  on  purpose  for  her,  forgetting 
to  give  it  to  her  until  that  minute.  The  look  of  joy  which 
lighted  up  'Lena's  face  made  Joel  almost  repent  of  not 
having  said  to  her  what  he  intended  to,  but  thinking  he 
would  wait  till  next  time,  he  started  off,  his  heart  con 
siderably  lightened  by  her  warm  thanks  for  his  thought- 
fulness. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE     DAGUERREOTYPE. 

"LooK,  grandmother! — a  picture  of  our  old  home. 
Isn't  it  natural  ?  "  exclaimed  Lena,  as  she  ran  back  to  the 
parlor. 

Yes,  it  was  natural,  and  the  old  lady's  tears  gushed 
forth  the  moment  she  looked  upon  it.  There  was  the 
well,  the  garden,  the  gate  partially  open,  the  barn  in  tho 
rear,  now  half  fallen  down,  the  curtain  of  the  west  win- 


238  'LENA  RIVERS. 

dow  rolled  up  as  it  was  wont  to  be,  while  on  the  door-stej\ 
basking  in  the  warm  sunshine,  lay  a  cat,  which  Mrs.  Nich 
ols  declared  was  hers. 

"  John  ought  to  see  this,"  said  she,  wiping  the  tears 
from  her  eyes,  and  turning  toward  the  door,  which  at 
that  moment  opened,  admitting  her  son,  together  with 
Mr.  Graham,  who  had  accidentally  called.  "  Look  here, 
John,  said  she,  calling  him  to  her  side—"  Do  you  remem 
ber  this  ?  " 

The  deep  flush  which  mounted  to  John's  brow,  showed 
that  he  did,  and  his  mother,  passing  it  toward  Mr.  Gra 
ham,  continued :  "  It  is  our  old  home  in  Massachusetts. 
There's  the  room  where  John  and  Helleny  both  were  born, 
and  where  Helleny  and  her  father  died.  Oh,  it  seems 
but  yesterday  since  she  died,  and  they  carried  her  out  of 
this  door,  and  down  the  road,  there— do  you  see  ?  " 

This  question  was  addressed  to  Mr.  Graliam,  who, 
whether  he  saw  or  not,  made  no  answer,  but  walked  to 
the  window  and  looked  out  upon  the  prospect  beyond, 
which  for  him  had  no  attractions  then.  The  sight  of  that 
daguerreotye  had  stirred  up  many  bitter  memories,  and 
for  some  time  he  stood  gazing  vacantly  through  the  win 
dow,  and  thinking— who  shall  say  of  what?  It^vould 
seem  that  the  daguerreotye  possessed  a  strong  fascination 
for  him,  for  after  it  had  been  duly  examined  and  laid 
down,  he  took  it  in  his  hand,  inspecting  it  minutely,  ask- 
ing  where  it  was  taken,  and  if  it  would  be  possible  to  pro 
cure  a  similar  one.  \ 

"  I  have  a  fancy  for  such  scenes,"  said  he,  "  and  would 
like  to  have  just  such  a  picture.  Mr.  Slocum  is  stopping 
in  Lexington,  you  say.  He  can  take  one  from  this,  I  sup 
pose.  I  mean  to  see  him ; "  and  with  his  usual  good  morn- 
ing,  he  departed. 

Two  weeks  from  this  time  Durward  again  went  down 


THE   DAGUERREOTYPE.  239 

to  Frankfort,  determining,  if  a  favorable  opportunity 
presented  itself,  to  offer  Lena  his  heart  and  fortune. 

He  found  her  alone,  Mabel  having  gone  out  to  spend 
the  day.  For  a  time  they  conversed  together  on  indif 
ferent  topics,  each  one  of  which  was  entirely  foreign  from 
that  which  lay  nearest  Durward's  heart.  At  last  the  con- 
versation  turned  upon  Joel  Slocum,  of  whose  visit  Dur- 
ward  had  heard. 

"I  really  think,  Lena,"  said  he,  laughingly,  "that  you 
ought  to  patronize  the  poor  fellow,  who  has  come  all  this 
distance  for  the  sake  of  seeing  you.  Suppose  you  have 
your  daguerreotype  taken  for  me,  will  you  ?  » 

Durward  was  in  earnest,  but  with  a  playful  shake  of 
her  brown  curls,  'Lena  answered  lightly,  "  Oh,  no,  no.  I 
have  never  had  my  picture  taken  in  my  life,  and  I  shan't 
begin  with  Joel." 

"  Never  had  it  taken !  "  repeated  Durward,  in  some 
surprise. 

'No  never,"  said  'Lena,  and  Durward  continued, 
drawing  her  nearer  to  him,  "  It  is  time  you  had,  then. 
So  have  it  taken  for  me.  I  mean  what  I  say,"  he  contin 
ued,  as  he  met  the  glance  of  her  merry  eyes.  "  There  is 
nothing  I  should  prize  more  than  your  miniature,  except, 
indeed,  the  original,  which  you  will  not  refuse  me,  when 
I  ask  it,  will  you  ?  " 

'Lena's  mirth  was  all  gone— she  knew  he  was  in,  earnest 
now.  She  felt  it  in  the  pressure  of  his  arm,  which  encir 
cled  her  waist ;  she  saw  it  in  his  eye,  and  heard  it  in 
the  tones  of  his  voice.  But  what  should  she  say? 
Closer  he  drew  her  to  his  side ;  she  felt  his  breath  upon 
her  cheek;  and  an  inaudible  answer  trembled  on  her  lips, 
when  noiselessly  through  the  door  came  Mr.  Graham, 
starting  when  he  saw  their  position,  and  offering  to  with 
draw  if  he  was  intruding.  'Lena  was  surprised  and  ex 


210  LENA  RIVERS. 

cited,  and  springing  up,  she  laid  her  hand  upon  his  arm 
as  he  was  about  to  leave  the  room,  bidding  him  stay,  and 
saying  he  was  always  welcome  there. 

So  he  staid,  and  with  the  first  frown  upon  his  brow 
which  'Lena  had  ever  seen,  Durward  left — left  without 
receiving  an  answer  to  his  question,  or  even  referring  to 
it  again,  though  'Lena  accompanied  him  to  the  door,  half 
dreading,  yet  hoping,  he  would  repeat  it.  But  he  did  not, 
and  wishing  her  much  pleasure  in  his  father's  company, 
he  walked  away,  writing  in  his  heart  bitter  things  against 
him,  not  her.  On  his  way  home  he  fell  in  with  Du 
Pont,  who,  Frenchman-like,  had  taken  a  little  too  much 
wine,  and  was  very  talkative. 

"  Vous  just  come  from  Mademoiselle  Rivers,"  said  he. 
"  She  be  von  fine  girl.  What  relation  be  she  to  Monsieur 
Graham?" 

"  None  whatever.     Why  do  you  ask  ?  " 

"  Because  he  pay  her  musique  lessons  and  — " 

Here  Du  Pont  suddenly  remembered  his  promise,  so  he 
kept  back  Mr.  Graham's  assertion  that  he  was  a  near  rel 
ative,  adding  in  its  place,  that  "  he  thought  probable  he 
related ;  but  you  no  tell,"  said  he,  "  for  Monsieur  bid  me 
keep  secret  and  I  forgot." 

Here,  having  reached  a  cross-road,  they  parted,  and 
again  Durward  wrote  down  bitter  things  against  his  fath 
er,  for  what  could  be  his  object  in  wishing  it  kept  a  se 
cret  that  he  was  paying  for  'Lena's  lessons,  or  why 
did  he  pay  for  them  at  all — and  did  'Lena  know  it  ?  He 
thought  not,  and  for  a  time  longer  was  she  blameless  hi 
his  eyes. 

On  reaching  home  he  found  both  the  parlor  and 
drawing-room  deserted,  and  upon  inquiry  learned  that 
his  mother  was  in  her  own  room.  Something,  he  could 
hardly  tell  what,  prompted  him  to  knock  for  admission. 


THE  DAGUERREOTYPE.  241 

which  being  granted,  he  entered,  finding  her  unusually 
pale,  with  the  trace  of  tears  still  upon  her  cheek.  This 
of  itself  was  so  common  an  occurrence,  that  he  would 
hardly  have  observed  it  had  not  there  been  about  her  a 
look  of  unfeigned  distress  which  he  had  seldom  seen 
before. 

"  What's  the  matter,  mother  ?"  said  he,  advancing  to 
ward  her.  "  What  has  happened  to  trouble  you  ?  " 

Without  any  reply,  Mrs.  Graham  placed  in  his  hand  a 
richly-cased  daguerreotype,  and  laying  her  head  upon  the 
table,  sobbed  aloud.  A  moment  Durward  stood  trans 
fixed  to  the  spot,  for  on  opening  the  case,  the  fair,  beau 
tiful  face  of  ''Lena  Elvers  looked  smilingly  out  upon 
him  I 

"  Where  did  you  get  this,  mother  ?— how  came  you 
by  it?"  he  asked,  and  she  answered,  that  in  looking 
through  her  husband's  private  drawer,  the  key  of  which 
she  had  accidentally  found  in  his  vest  pocket,  she  had 
come  upon  it,  together  with  a  curl  of  soft  chestnut-brown 
hair  which  she  threw  across  Durward's  finger,  and  from 
which  he  recoiled  as  from  a  viper's  touch. 

For  several  minutes  not  a  word  was  spoken  by  either, 
and  then  Mrs.  Graham,  looking  him,  in  the  face,  said, 
"  You  recognize  that  countenance,  of  course  ?  " 

"  I  do,"  he  replied,  in  a  voice  husky  with  emotion,  for 
Durward  was  terribly  moved. 

Twice  had  'Lena  asserted  that  never  in  her  life  had  her 
daguerreotype  been  taken,  and  yet  he  held  it  in  his 
hands  ;  there  was  no  mistaking  it — the  same  broad,  open 
brow — the  same  full,  red  lips — the  same  smile — and  more 
than  all,  the  same  clustering  ringlets,  though  arranged 
a  little  differently  from  what  she  usually  wore  them,  the 
hair  on  the  picture  being  combed  smoothly  over  the  fore 
head,  while  'Lena's  was  generally  brushed  up,  after  the 
K  16 


242  'LENA  RIVERS. 

style  of  the  prevailing  fashion.  Had  Durward  examined 
minutely,  he  might  have  found  other  points  of  difference, 
but  he  did  not  think  of  that.  A  look  had  convinced  him 
that  'twas  'Lena — his  'Lena,  he  had  fondly  hoped  to  call 
her.  But  that  was  over  now — she  had  deceived  him — • 
told  him  a  deliberate  falsehood — refused  him,  her  da 
guerreotype  and  given  it  to  his  father,  whose  secrecy  con 
cerning  it  indicated  something  wrong.  His  faith  was 
shaken,  and  yet  for  the  sake  of  what  she  had  been  to 
him,  he  would  spare  her  good  name.  He  could  not  bear 
to  hear  the  world  breathe  aught  against  her,  for  possibly 
she  might  be  innocent ;  but  no,  there  was  no  mistaking 
the  falsehood,  and  Durward  groaned  in  bitterness  as  he 
handed  the  picture  to  his  mother,  bidding  her  return  it 
"vvhere  she  found  it.  Mrs.  Graham  had  never  seen  her 
eon  thus  moved,  and  obeying  him,  she  placed  her  hand 
upon  his  arm,  asking,  "  why  he  was  so  affected — what 
she  was  to  him  ?  " 

"  Everything,  everything,"  said  he,  laying  his  face  upon 
the  table.  "  'Lena  Rivers  was  all  the  world  to  me.  I 
loved  her  as  I  shall  never  love  again." 

And  then,  without  withholding  a  thing,  Durward  told 
his  mother  ah1 — how  he  had  that  very  morning  gone  to 
Frankfort  with  the  intention  of  offering  'Lena  his  hand — • 
how  he  had  partially  done  so,  when  they  were  interrupt 
ed  by  the  entrance  of  a  visitor,  he  did  not  say  whom. 

"  Thank  heaven  for  your  escape.  I  can  bear  your  fath 
er's  conduct,  if  it  is  the  means  of  saving  you  from  her,n 
exclaimed  Mrs.  Graham,  while  her  son  continued  :  "  And 
now,  mother,  I  have  a  request  to  make  of  you — a  request 
which  you  must  grant.  I  have  loved  'Lena  too  well  to 
cease  from  loving  her  so  soon.  And  though  I  can  never 
again  think  to  make  her  my  wife,  I  will  not  hear  her  name 
lightly  spoken  by  the  world,  who  must  never  know  what 


THE  DAGUERREOTYPE.  243 

we  do.     Promise  me,  mother,  to  keep  secret  whatever 
you  may  know  against  her." 

uDo  you  think  me  bereft  of  my  senses,  »  asked  Mrs 
Graham  petulantly,  «  that  I  should  wish  to  proclaim  my 
affairs  to  every  one  ?  " 

"No,  no,  mother,"  he  answered,  "but  you  are  easily 
excited,  and  say  things  you  had  better  not.  Mrs  Living- 
stone  bears  'Lena  no  good  will,  you  know,  and  sometimes 
when  she  is  speaking  disparagingly  of  her,  you  may  be 
thrown  off  your  guard,  and  tell  what  you  know  But 
this  must  not  be.  Promise  me,  mother,  will  you?  " 

Durward  was  very  pale,  and  the  drops  of  sweat  stood 
nickly  about  his  mouth  as  he  asked  this  of  his  mother 
who,  mentally  congratulating  herself  upon  her  son's  es 
cape,  promised  what  he  asked,  at  the  same  time  repeating 
to  him  all  that  she  heard  from  Mrs.  Livingstone  concert 
ing  'Lena,  until  Durward  interrupted  her  with   «  Stop 
stop,  I've  heard  enough.     Nothing  which  Mrs.  Livin- 
stone  could  say  would  have  weighed  a  straw,   but  the 
conviction  of  my  own  eyes  and  ears  have  undeceived  me 
and  henceforth  'Lena  and  I  are  as  strangers." 

Nothing  could  please  Mrs.  Graham  better,  for  the  idea 
her  son's  marrying  a  poor,  unknown  girl,  was  dread- 
tul,  and  though  she  felt  indignant  toward  her  husband  so 
peculiar   was  her  nature  that  she  would  not  have  had 
matters  otherwise  if  she  could  ;  and  when  Durward,  who 
ishked  scenes,  suggested  the  propriety  of  her  not  speak 
ing  to  his  father  on  the  subject  at  present,  she  assented, 
saying  that  it  would   be  more   easy  for  her  to  refrain, 
as    she   was  intending   to   start   for   Louisville   on    the 
morrow. 

"  I've  been  contemplating  a  visit  there  for  some  time, 
and   before  Mr.  Graham  left  home  this  morning,  I  had 


244  'LEXA   RIVERS. 

decided  to  go,"  said  she,  at  the  same  time  proposing  that 
Durward  should  accompany  her. 

To  this  he  consented  willingly,  for  in  the  first  shock  of 
his  disappointment,  a  change  of  place  and  scene  was  what 
he  most  desired.  The  hot  blood  of  the  south,  which 
burned  in  his  veins,  seemed  all  on  fire,  and  he  felt  that  he 
could  not,  for  the  present,  at  least,  be  daily  associated 
with  his  step-father.  An  absence  of  several  days,  he 
thought,  might  have  the  effect  of  calming  him  down.  It 
was  accordingly  decided  that  he  should,  on  the  morrow, 
start  with  her  for  Louisville,  to  be  gone  two  weeks ;  and 
with  this  understanding  they  parted,  Durward  going  to 
.his  own  chamber,  there  to  review  the  past,  and  strive,  if 
possible,  to  efface  from  his  heart  every  memory  of  'Lena, 
whom  he  had  loved  so  well.  But  'twas  all  in  vain  ;  he 
could  not  so  soon  forget  her,  and  far  into  the  hours  of 
night  he  sat  alone,  striving  to  frame  some  excuse  for  her 
conduct.  The  fact  that  his  father  possessed  her  daguerre 
otype  might  possibly  be  explained,  without  throwing  cen 
sure  upon  her ;  but  the  falsehood — never ;  and  with  the 
firm  conviction  that  she  was  lost  to  him  forever,  he  at 
last  retired  to  rest,  just  as  the  clock  in  the  hall  below 
proclaimed  the  hour  of  midnight. 

Meantime,  Mrs.  Graham  was  pondering  in  her  own 
mind  the  probable  result  of  a  letter  which,  in  the  heat  of 
passion,  she  had  that  day  dispatched  to  'Lena,  accusing 
her  of  "  marring  the  domestic  peace  of  a  hitherto  happy 
family,"  and  while  she  cast  some  reflections  upon  her 
birth,  commanding  her  never,  under  any  circumstances, 
"  to  venture  into  her  presence !  " 

This  cruel  letter  had  been  sent  to  the  office  before  Dur- 
ward's  return,  and  as  she  well  knew  how  much  he  would 
disapprove  of  it,  she  resolved  not  to  tell  him,  secretly 
hoping  'Lena  would  keep  her  own  counsel.  "  Base  crea- 


THE  DAGUERREOTYPE.  245 

tore,"  said  she,  "  to  give  my  husband  her  likeness — but 
he  shall  never  see  it  again ;  and  with  stealthy  step  she 
advanced  toward  the  secret  drawer,  which  she  again 
opened,  and  taking  from  it  both  daguerreotype  and  ring 
let,  locked  it,  replacing  the  key  in  the  pocket  where  she 
found  it.  Then  seizing  the  long,  bright  curl,  she  hurled 
it  into  the  glowing  grate,  shuddering  as  she  did  so,  and 
trembling,  as  if  she  really  knew  a  wrong  had  been  done  to 
the  dead. 

Opening  the  case,  she  looked  once  more  upon  the  hated 
features,  which  now  seemed  to  regard  her  mournfully, 
as  if  reproaching  her  for  what  she  had  done.  No  part  of 
the  dress  was  visible — nothing  except  the  head  and  neck, 
which  was  uncovered,  and  over  which  fell  the  chestnut 
curls,  whose  companion  so  recently  lay  seething  and 
scorching  on  the  burning  coals. 

There  was  a  footstep  without — her  husband  had  re 
turned — and  quick  as  thought  was  the  daguerreotype  con 
cealed,  while  Mrs.  Graham,  forcing  down  her  emotion, 
took  up  a  book,  which  she  seemed  Jo  be  intently  reading 
when  her  husband  entered.  After  addressing  to  her  a 
few  common-place  remarks,  all  of  which  she  answered 
civilly,  he  went  to  the  wardrobe,  and  on  pretense  of  look 
ing  for  his  knife,  which,  he  said,  he  believed  he  left  in  his 
vest  pocket,  he  took  out  the  key,  and  then  carelessly  pro 
ceeded  to  unlock  his  private  drawer,  his  wife  watching 
him  the  while,  and  keenly  enjoying  his  look  of  consterna 
tion  when  he  saw  that  his  treasure  was  gone.  Again 
and  again  was  his  drawer  searched,  but  all  to  no  pur 
pose,  and  casting  an  anxious  glance  toward  his  wife, 
whose  face,  for  a  wonder,  betrayed  no  secret,  he  com 
menced  walking  the  floor  in  a  very  perturbed  state  of 
mind,  his  wife  exulting  in  his  discomfiture,  and  think- 
big  herself  amply  avenged  for  all  that  she  had  endured, 


246  'LENA  RIVERS. 

At  last  he  spoke,  telling  her  of  a  letter  which  he  had 
that  day  received  from  South  Carolina,  containing  the 
news  of  the  death  of  a  distant  relative,  who  had  left  him 
some  property.  "It  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  be  there 
in  person,"  said  he,  "but  still  I  should  like  to  visit  my 
old  home  once  more.  What  do  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  Go,  by  all  means,"  said  she,  glad  of  anything  which 
would  place  distance  between  him  and  'Lena.  "  No  one 
can  attend  to  your  business  one-half  as  well  as  yourself. 
When  will  you  start  if  you  go  ?  " 

"  Immediately— before  your  return  from  Louisville— 
unless  you  wish  to  accompany  me." 

"I'm  afraid  I  should  be  an  incumbrance,  and  would 
rather  not,"  said  she,  in  a  way  which  puzzled  him,  caus 
ing  him  to  wonder  "  what  had  come  over  her." 

°"  You  can  do  as  you  choose,"  said  he,  but  I  should  be 
glad  of  your  company." 

"  No,  I  thank  you,"  was  her  laconic  reply,  as  she,  in 
turn,  wondered  what  had  come  over  him. 

The  next  morning  the  carriage  came  up  to  the  door  to 
convey  Mrs.  Graham  and  Durward  to  Frankfort.  The 
latter  was  purposely  late,  and  he  did  not  see  his  father 
until  he  came  down,  traveling-bag  hi  hand,  to  enter  the 
carriage.  Then  Mr.  Graham  asked,  in  some  surprise, 
"  where  he  was  going  !  " 

"  With  my  mother,  to  Louisville,  sir,"  answered  Dur 
ward,  stiffly.  "  I  am  not  willing  she  should  travel  alone, 
Kyou  are;"  and  he  sprang  into  the  carriage,  ordering 
the  coachman  to  drive  off  ere  another  word  could  bo 
spoken. 

"  Gone,  when  I  had  nerved  myself  to  tell  him  every 
thing  ! my  usual  luck !  "  mused  Mr.  Graham,  as  he  re 
turned  to  the  house,  and  sure  of  no  prying  eyes,  recom 
menced  his  search  for  the  daguerreotype,  which  was  no- 


THE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EFFECT.  247 

to  be  found.  Could  she  have  found  it  ?  Impossi 
ble!  for  it  was  not  in'her  jealous  nature  to  have  held  her 
peace ;  and  again  he  sought  for  it,  but  all  to  no  purpose  ; 
and  finally  thinking  he  must  have  taken  it  with  him  and 
lost  it,  he  gave  it  up,  mourning  more  for  the  loss  of  the 
curl,  which  could  never,  never  be  replaced,  while  the  pic 
ture  might  be  found. 

"Why  do  I  live  so?"  thought  he,  as  he  nervously 
paced  the  room.  "  My  life  is  one  of  continual  fear  and 
anxiety,  but  it  shall  be  so  no  longer.  I'll  tell  her  all  when 
she  returns.  I'll  brave  the  world,  dare  her  displeasure, 
take  'Lena  home,  and  be  a  man." 

Satisfied  with  this  resolution,  and  nothing  doubting  that 
he  should  keep  it,  he  started  for  Versailles,  where  he  had 
an  engagement  with  a  gentleman  who  transacted  business 
for  him  in  Lexington. 


CHAPTER  XXin. 

THE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EFFECT. 

MABEL  had  gone  out,  and  'Lena  sat  alone  in  the  little 
room  adjoining  the  parlor  which  Mr.  Douglass  termed  his 
library,  but  which  Nellie  had  fitted  up  for  a  private  sew 
ing-room.  It  was  'Lena's  favorite  resort  when  she  wished 
to  be  alone,  and  as  Mabel  was  this  morning  absent,  she 
had  retired  thither,  not  to  work,  but  to  think— to  recall 
every  word  and  look  of  Durward's,  to  wonder  when  and 
how  he  would  repeat  the  question,  the  answer  to  which 
had  been  prevented  by  Mr.  Graham. 

Many  and  blissful  were  her  emotions  as  she  sat  there, 


248  'LENA    RIVERS. 

wondering  if  it  were  not  a  bright  dream,  from  which  she 
would  too  soon  awaken,  for  could  it  be  that  one  so  noble, 
so  good,  and  so  much  sought  for  as  Durward  Bellmont, 
had  chosen  her,  of  all  others,  to  be  his  bride  ?  Yes,  it 
must  be  so,  for  he  was  not  one  to  say  or  act  what  he  did 
not  mean ;  he  would  come  that  day  and  repeat  what  he 
had  said  before ;  and  she  blushed  as  she  thought  what  her 
answer  would  be. 

There  was  a  knock  on  the  door,  and  a  servant  entered, 
bringing  her  a  letter,  which  she  eagerly  seized,  thinking 
it  was  from  him.     But  'twas  not  his  writing,  though  bear 
ing  the  post-mark  of  Versailles.     Hastily  she  broke  the 
seal,  and  glancing  at  the  signature,  turned  pale,  for  it  was 
"  Lucy  Graham,"  his  mother,  who  had  written,  but  for 
what,  she  could  not  guess.     A  moment  more  and  she  fell 
back  on  the  sofa,  white  and  rigid  as  a  piece  of  marble. 
'Twas  a  cruel  and  insulting  letter,  containing  many  dark 
insinuations,  which  she,  being  wholly  innocent,  could  not 
understand.     She  knew,  indeed,  that  Mr.  Graham  had 
presented  her  with  Vesta,  but  was  there  anything  wrong 
in  that  ?     She  did  not  think  so,  else  she  had  never  taken 
her.     Her  uncle,  her  cousin,  and  Durward,  all  three  ap 
proved  of  her  accepting  it,  the  latter  coming  with  it  him 
self—so  it  could  not  be  that ;  and^  for  a  long  time  'Lena 
wept  passionately,  resolving  one  moment  to  answer  the 
letter  as  it  deserved ;  determining,  the  next,  to  go  her 
self  and  see  Mrs.  Graham  face  to  face  ;  and  then  conclu 
ding  to  treat  it  with  silent  contempt,  trusting  that  Dur 
ward  would  erelong  appear  and  make  it  all  plain  between 
them. 

At  last,  about  five  o'clock,  Mabel  returned,  bringing 
the  intelligence  that  Mrs.  Graham  was  in  the  city,  at  the 
Weisiger  House,  where  she  was  going  to  remain  until  the 
morrow.  She  had  met  with  an  accident,  which  prevented 


TIIE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EFFECT.  249 

hei  arrival  in  Frankfort  until  the  train  which  she  was  de* 
sirous  of  taking  had  left. 

"Is  her  husband  with  her?"  asked  'Lena,  to  which 
Mabel  replied,  that  she  understood  she  was  alone. 

"  Then  I'll  see  her  and  know  what  she  means,"  thought 
'Lena,  trembling,  even  then,  at  the  idea  of  venturing  into 
the  presence  of  the  cold,  haughty  woman. 

******** 

Supper  was  over  at  the  Weisiger  House,  and  in  a  hand- 
some  private  parlor  Mrs.  Graham  lay,  half  asleep,  upon 
the  sofa,  while  in  the  dressing-room  adjoining  Durward 
sat,  trying  to  frame  a  letter  which  should  tell  poor  'Lena 
that  their  intimacy  was  forever  at  an  end.  For  hours, 
and  until  the  last  gleam  of  daylight  had  faded  away,  he 
had  sat  by  the  window,  watching  each  youthful  form 
which  passed  up  and  down  the  busy  street,  hoping  to  catch 
a  glimpse  of  her  who  had  once  made  his  world.  But  his 
watch  was  in  vain,  and  now  he  had  sat  down  to  write, 
throwing  aside  sheet  after  sheet,  as  he  thought  its  begin 
ning  too  cold,  too  harsh,  or  too  affectionate.  He  was 
about  making  up  his  mind  not  to  write  at  all,  but  to  let 
matters  take  their  course,  when  a  knock  at  his  mother's 
door,  and  the  announcement  that  a  lady  wished  to  see  her, 
arrested  his  attention. 

"  Somebody  want  to  see  me  ?  Just  show  her  up,"  said 
Mrs.  Graham,  smoothing  down  her  flaxen  hair,  and  wiping 
from  between  her  eyes  a  spot  of  powder  which  the  oppo- 
site  mirror  revealed. 

In  a  moment  the  visitor  entered— a  slight,  girlish  form, 
whose  features  were  partially  hidden  from  view  by  a  heavy 
lace  veil,  which  was  thrown  over  her  satin  hood.  A  sin. 
gle  glance  convinced  Mrs.  Graham  that  it  was  a  lady,  a 
well-bred  lady,  who  stood  before  her,  and  very  politely 
she  bade  her  be  seated. 
K* 


h 

1 


250  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Rather  haughtily  the  proffered  chair  was  declined,  while 
the  veil  was  thrown  aside,  disclosing  to  the  astonished 
gaze  of  Mrs.  Graham  the  face  of  'Lena  Rivers,  which  was 
unnaturally  pale,  while  her  dark  eyes  grew  darker  with 
the  intensity  of  her  feelings. 

"'Lena  Rivers!  why  came  you  here?"  she  asked, 
while  at  the  mention  of  that  name  Durward  started  to 
his  feet,  but  quickly  resumed  his  seat,  listening  with  in 
describable  emotions  to  the  sound  of  a  voice  which  made 
every  nerve  quiver  with  pain. 

"  You  ask  me  why  I  am  here,  madam,"  said  'Lena.  "  I 
came  to  seek  an  explanation  from  you — to  know  of  what 
[  am  accused — to  ask  why  you  wrote  me  that  insulting 
letter — me,  an  orphan  girl,  alone  and  unprotected  in  the 
world,  and  who  never  knowingly  harmed  you  or  yours." 

"  Never  harmed  me  or  mine ! "  scornfully  repeated 
Mrs.  Graham.  "  Don't  add  falsehood  to  your  other  sina 
• — though,  if  you'll  lie  to  my  son,  you  of  course  will  to 
me,  his  mother." 

"  Explain  yourself,  madam,  if  you  please,"  exclaimed 
'Lena,  her  olden  temper  beginning  to  get  the  advantage 
of  her. 

"  And  what  if  I  do  not  please  ?  "  sneeringly  asked  Mrs. 
Graham. 

"Then  I  will  compel  you  to  do  so,  for  my  good  name 
is  all  I  have,  and  it  shall  not  be  wrested  from  me  without 
an  effort  on  my  part  to  preserve  it,"  answered  'Lena. 

"  Perhaps  you  expect  my  husband  to  stand  by  you  and 
help  you.     I  am  sure  it  would  be  very  ungentlemanly  in 
im  to  desert  you,  now,"  said  Mrs.  Graham,  her  manner 
conveying  far  more  meaning  than  her  words. 

'Lena  trembled  from  head  to  foot,  and  her  voice  was 
hardly  distinct  as  she  replied,  "  Will  you  explain  your- 


THE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EEFECT..  251 

self,  or  will  you  not  ?   What  have  I  done,  that  you  should 
treat  me  thus  ?  " 

"  Done  ?  Done  enough,  I  should  think  !  Havn't  you 
wiled  him  away  from  me  with  your  artful  manners  ?  Has 
he  ever  been  the  same  man  since  he  saw  you  ?  Hasn't  he 
talked  of  you  in  his  sleep  ?  made  you  most  valuable  pres 
ents  which  a  true  woman  would  have  refused  ?  and  in  re 
turn,  havn't  you  bestowed  upon  him  your  daguerreotype, 
together  with  a  lock  of  your  hair,  on  which  you  no  doubt 
pride  yourself,  but  which  to  me  and  my  son  seem  like  so 
many  coiling  serpents  ?  " 

'Lena  had  sat  down.  She  could  stand  no  longer,  and 
burying  her  face  in  her  hands,  she  waited  until  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  had  finished.  Then,  lifting  up  her  head,  she  replied 
in  a  voice  far  more  husky  than  the  one  in  which  she  before 
had  spoken—"  You  accuse  me  wrongfully,  Mrs.  Graham, 
for  as  I  hope  for  heaven,  I  never  entertained  a  feeling 
for  your  husband  which  I  would  not  have  done  for  my 
own  father,  and  indeed,  he  has  seemed  to  me  more  like  a 
parent  than  a  friend — " 

"  Because  you  fancied  he  might  some  day  be  one,  I 
dare  say,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Graham. 

'Lena  paid  no  attention  to  this  sarcastic  remark,  but 
continued :  "  I  know  I  accepted  Vesta,  but  I  never 
dreamed  it  was  wrong,  and  if  it  was,  I  will  make  amends 
by  immediately  returning  her,  for  much  as  I  love  her,  I 
shall  never  use  her  again." 

"  But  the  daguerreotype  ?  »  interrupted  Mrs.  Graham, 
anxious  to  reach  that  point.  "  What  have  you  to  say 
about  the  daguerreotype?  Perhaps  you  will  presume  to 
deny  that,  too." 

Durward  had  arisen,  and  now  in  the  doorway  watched 
'Lena,  whose  dark  brown  eyes  flashed  fire  as  she  answered, 


252  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

"  It  is  false,  madam.  You  know  it  is  false.  I  nevei  yet 
have  had  my  picture  taken." 

"  But  he  has  it  in  his  possession ;  how  do  you  account 
for  that  ?  " 

"  Again  I  repeat,  that  is  false ; "  said  'Lena,  while  Mrs. 
Graham,  strengthened  by  the  presence  of  her  son,  an 
swered,  "  I  can  prove  it,  miss." 

"  I  defy  you  to  do  so,"  said  'Lena,  strong  in  her  own 
innocence. 

"  Shall  I  show  it  to  her,  Durward,"  asked  Mrs.  Gra 
ham,  and  'Lena,  turning  suddenly  round,  became  for  the 
first  time  conscious  of  his  presence. 

With  a  cry  of  anguish  she  stretched  her  arms  imploring 
ly  toward  him,  asking  him,  in  piteous  tones,  to  save  her 
from  his  mother.  Durward  would  almost  have  laid  down 
his  life  to  prove  her  innocent,  but  he  felt  that  could  not 
be.  So  he  made  her  no  reply,  and  in  his  eye  she  read 
that  he,  too,  was  deceived.  With  a  low,  wailing  moan 
she  again  covered  her  face  with  her  hands,  while  Mrs. 
Graham  repeated  her  question,  "  Shall  I  show  it  to  her  ?  " 

Durward  was  not  aware  that  she  had  it  in  her  posses 
sion,  and  he  answered,  "Why  do  you  ask,  when  you 
know  you  cannot  do  so  ?  " 

Oh,  how  joyfully  'Lena  started  up ;  he  did  not  believe 
it,  after  all,  and  if  ever  a  look  was  expressive  of  gratitude; 
that  was  which  she  gave  to  Durward,  who  returned  her 
no  answering  glance,  save  one  of  pity ;  and  again  that 
wailing  cry  smote  painfully  on  his  ear.  Taking  the  case 
from  her  pocket,  Mrs.  Graham  advanced  toward  'Lena, 
saying,  "  Here,  see  for  yourself,  and  then  deny  it  if  you 
can." 

But  'Lena  had  no  power  to  take  it.  Her  faculties 
seemed  benumbed,  and  Durward,  who,  with  folded  arms 
and  clouded  brow  stood  leaning  against  the  mantel,  coi> 


THE  LETTER  AND   ITS  EFFECT.  253 

fit  rued  her  hesitation  into  guilt,   which  dreaded  to  be 
convicted. 

"Why  don't  yoi  take  it?"  persisted  Mrs.  Graham. 
;;  You  defied  me  to  prove  it,  and  here  it  is.  I  found  it  in 
my  husband's  private  drawer,  together  with  one  of  those 
long  curls,  which  last  I  burned  out  of  my  sight." 

Durward  shuddered,  while  'Lena  involuntarily  thought 
of  the  mass  of  wavy  tresses  which  they  had  told  her  clus 
tered  around  her  mother's  face,  as  she  lay  in  her  narrow 
coffin.  Why  thought  she  of  her  mother  then  ?  Was  if. 
because  they  were  so  strangely  alike,  that  any  aUusion  to 
her  own  personal  appearance  always  reminded  her  of  her 
lost  parent?  Perhaps  so.  But  to  return  to  our  story. 
'Lena  would  have  sworn  that  the  likeness  was  not  hers, 
and  still  an  undefined  dread  crept  over  her,  preventing 
her  from  moving. 

"  Yon  seem  so  unwilling  to  be  convinced,  allow  me  to 
assist  you,"  said  Mrs.  Graham,  at  the  same  time  unclasp- 
ing  the  case  and  holding  to  view  the  picture,  on  which 
with  wondering  eyes,  'Lena  gazed  in  astonishment. 

t  is  I— it  is ;  but  oh,  heaven,  how  came  he  by  it  ?  " 
she  gasped,  and  the  next  moment  she  fell  fainting  at 
Durward's  feet. 

In  an  instant  he  was  bending  over  her,  his  mother  ex. 
claiming,  «  Pray,  don't  touch  her— she  does  it  for  effect  » 
Bui  he  knew  better.     He  knew  there  was  no  fei-nin" 
the  corpse-like  pallor  of  that  face,  and  pushing  his  mother 
de,  he  took  the  unconscious  girl  in  his  arms,  and  bear- 
mg  hpr  to  the  sofa,  laid  her  gently  upon  it,  removing  her 
hand  and  smoothing  back  from  her  cold  brow  the  thick 
clustering   curls   which   his   mother   had   designated   as' 
coiling  serpents." 

"  Do  not  ring  and  expose  her  to  the  idle  gaze  of  ser 
vants,"  said  he,  to  his  mother,  who  had  seized  the  bell- 


254  'LEKA  RIVERS. 

rope.  "  Bring  some  water  from  your  bedroom,  and  w« 
will  take  charge  of  Ker  ourselves." 

There  was  something  commanding  in  the  tones  of  his 
voice,  and  Mrs.  Graham,  now  really  alarmed  at  the  deathly 
appearance  of  'Lena,  hastened  to  obey.  When  he  was 
alone,  Durward  bent  down,  imprinting  upon  the  white 
lips  a  burning  kiss — the  first  he  had  ever  given  her.  In 
his  heart  he  believed  her  unworthy  of  his  love,  and  yet 
she  had  never  seemed  one-half  so  dear  to  him  as  at  that  mo 
ment,  when  she  lay  there  before  him  helpless  as  an  infant, 
and  all  unmindful  of  the  caresses  which  he  lavished  upon 
her.  "  If  it  were  indeed  death,"  he  thought,  "  and  it  had 
come  upon  her  while  yet  she  was  innocent,  I  could  have 
borne  it,  but  now  I  would  I  had  never  seen  her ; "  and 
the  tears  which  fell  like  rain  upon  her  cheek,  were  not  un 
worthy  of  the  strong  man  who  shed  them.  The  cold  wa 
ter  with  which  they  profusely  bathed  her  face  and  neck, 
restored  her,  and  then  Durward,  who  could  bear  the  scene 
no  longer,  glided  silently  into  the  next  room. 

When  he  was  gone,  Mrs.  Graham,  who  seemed  bent 
upon  tormenting  'Lena,  asked  "  what  she  thought  about 
it  now  ?  " 

"  Please  don't  speak  to  me  again,  for  I  am  very,  very 
wretched,"  said  'Lena  softly,  while  Mrs.  Graham  con- 
tinued:  "Have  you  nothing  to  offer  in  explanation?" 

"  Nothing,  nothing — it  is  a  dark  mystery  to  me,  and  I 
wish  that  I  was  dead,"  answered  'Lena,  sobbing  pas 
sionately. 

"  Better  wish  to  live  and  repent,"  said  Mrs.  Graham, 
beginning  to  read  her  a  long  sermon  on  her  duty,  to  which 
'Lena  paid  no  attention,  and  the  moment  she  felt  that  she 
eould  walk,  she  arose  to  go. 

The  moon  was  shining  brightly,  and  as  Mr.  Douglass 
lived  not  far  away,  Mrs.  Graham  did  not  deem  an  escort 


THE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EFFECT.  255 

necessary.  But  Dili-ward  thought  differently.  He  could 
not  walk  with  her  side  by  side,  as  he  had  often  done  be 
fore,  but  he  would  follow  at  a  distance,  to  see  that  no  harm 
same  near  her.  There  was  no  danger  of  his  being  dis 
covered,  for  'Lena  was  too  much  absorbed  in  her  own 
wretchedness  to  heed  aught  about  her,  and  in  silence  he 
walked  behind  her  until  he  saw  the  door  of  Mr.  Douglass' 
house  close  upon  her.  Then  feeling  that  there  was  an 
inseparable  barrier  between  them,  he  returned  to  his  ho 
tel,  where  he  found  his  mother  exulting  over  the  downfall 
of  one  whom,  for  some  reason,  she  had  always  disliked. 

"  Didn't  she  look  confounded,  though,  when  I  showed 
her  the  picture  ?  »  said  she ;  to  which  Durward  replied, 
by  asking  "  when  and  why  she  sent  the  letter." 

"  I  did  it  because  I  was  a  mind  to,  and  I  am  not  sorry 
for  it,  either,"  was  Mrs.  Graham's  crusty  answer ;  where- 
upon  the  conversation  was  dropped,  and  as  if  by  a  tacit 
agreement,  the  subject  was  not  again  resumed  during  their 
stay  in  Louisville, 


It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  'Lena's  emotions  as 
she  returned  to  the  house.  Twice  in  the  hall  was  she 
obliged  to  grasp  at  the  banister  to  keep  from  falling,  and 
knowing  that  such  excessive  agitation  would  be  remarked, 
she  seated  herself  upon  the  stairs  until  she  felt  composed 
enough  to  enter  the  parlor.  Fortunately,  Mabel  was 
alone,  and  so  absorbed  in  the  fortunes  of  "  Uncle  True 
and  Little  Gerty,"  as  scarcely  to  notice  'Lena  at  all. 
Once,  indeed,  as  she  sat  before  the  grate  so  motionless 
and  still,  Mabel  looked  up,  and  observing  how  white  sha 
was,  asked  what  was  the  matter. 


256  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  A  bad  headache,"  answered  'Lena,  at  the  same  time 
announcing  her  intention  of  retiring. 

Alone  in  her  room,  her  feelings  gave  way,  and  none  save 
those  who  like  her  have  suffered,  can  conceive  of  her  an 
guish,  as  prostrate  upon  the  floor  she  lay,  her  long  silken 
curls  falling  about  her  white  face,  which  looked  ghastly 
and  haggard  by  the  moonlight  that  fell  softly  about  her, 
as  if  to  soothe  her  woe. 

"  What  is  it,"  she  cried  aloud — "  this  dark  mystery, 
which  I  cannot  explain." 

The  next  moment  she  thought  of  Mr.  Graham.  He 
could  explain  it — he  must  explain  it.  She  would  go  to 
him  the  next  day,  asking  him  what  it  meant.  She  felt 
sure  that  he  could  make  it  plain,  for  suspicious  as  matters 
looked,  she  exculpated  him  from  any  wrong  intention  to 
ward  her.  Still  she  could  not  sleep,  and  when  the  gray 
morning  light  crept  in,  it  found  her  too  much  exhausted 
to  rise. 

For  several  days  she  kept  her  room,  carefully  attended 
by  Mabel  and  her  grandmother,  who,  at  the  first  intimation 
of  her  illness,  hastened  down  to  nurse  her.  Every  day 
did  'Lena  ask  of  Mr.  Douglass  if  Mr.  Graham  had  been  in 
the  city,  saying  that  the  first  time  he  came  she  wished  to 
see  him.  Days,  however,  went  by,  and  nothing  was  seen 
or  heard  from  him,  until  at  last  John  Jr.,  who  visited  her 
daily,  casually  informed  her  that  Mr.  Graham  had  been 
unexpectedly  called  away  to  South  Carolina.  A  distant 
relative  of  his  had  died,  bequeathing  him  a  large  prop 
erty,  which  made  it  necessary  for  him  to  go  there  imme 
diately  ;  so  without  waiting  for  the  return  of  his  wife,  he 
had  started  off,  leaving  Woodlawn  alone. 

"  Gone  to  South  Carolina ! "  exclaimed  'Lena.   "  When 
wiL  he  return  ?  " 

"Nobody  knows.     He's  away  from  home  more  than 


THE  LETTEK  AXD  ITS  EFFECT.  257 

half  the  time,  just  as  I  should  be  if  Mrs.  Graham  were 
my  wife,"  answered  John,  Jr.,  at  the  same  time  playfully 
remarking  that  'Lena  need  not  look  so  blank,  as  it  was  not 
Durward  who  had  gone  so  far. 

For  an  instant  'Lena  resolved  to  tell  him  everything, 
and  ask  him  what  to  do,  but  knowing  how  impetuous  he 
was  when  at  all  excited,  she  finally  decided  to  keep  her 
own  secret,  determining,  however,  to  write  to  Mr.  Gra 
ham,  as  soon  as  she  was  able.  Just  before  John  Jr.  left 
her,  she  called  him  to  her  side,  asking  him  if  he  would  do 
her  the  favor  of  seeing  that  Vesta  was  sent  back  to  Wood 
lawn,  as  she  did  not  wish  for  her  any  longer. 

"  What  the  plague  is  that  for — has  mother  been  raising 
a  row  ?  "  asked  John  Jr.,  and  'Lena  replied,  "  No,  no, 
your  mother  has  nothing  to  do  with  it.  I  only  want  Vesta 
taken  home.  I  cannot  at  present  tell  you  why,  but  I  have 
a  good  reason,  and  some  time,  perhaps,  I'll  explain. 
You'll  do  it,  won't  you  ?  " 

With  the  determination  of  questioning  Durward  as  to 
what  had  happened,  John  Jr.  promised,  and  when  Mrs. 
Graham  and  her  son  returned  from  Louisville,  they  found 
Vesta  safely  stabled  with  their  other  horses,  while  the 
saddle  with  its  tiny  slipper  hung  upon  a  beam,  and  seem 
ingly  looked  down  with  reproach  upon  Durward,  who 
turned  away  with  a  bitter  pang  as  he  thought  of  the 
morning  when  he  first  took  it  to  Maple  Grove. 

The  next  day  was  dark  and  rainy,  precluding  all  out 
door  exercise,  and  weary,  sad,  and  spiritless,  Durward  re- 
pared  to  the  library,  where,  for  an  hour  or  more,  he  sat 
musing  dreamily  of  the  past— of  the  morning,  years  ago, 
when  first  he  met  the  little  girl  who  had  since  grown  so 
strongly  into  his  love,  and  over  whom  so  dark  a  shadow 
had  fallen.  A  heavy  knock  at  the  door,  and  hi  a  moment 
John  Jr.  appeared,  with  dripping  garments  and  a  slightlj 


258  'LENA   RIVERS. 

scowling  face.  There  was  a  faint  resemblance  between 
him  and  'Lena,  manifest  in  the  soft,  curling  hair  and  dark, 
lustrous  eyes.  Durward  had  observed  it  before— he 
thought  of  it  now— and  glad  to  see  any  one  who  bore  the 
least  resemblance  to  her,  he  started  up,  exclaiming,  "  Why, 
Livingstone,  the  very  one  of  all  the  world  I  am  glad  to 


see. 


John  made  no  reply,  but  shaking  the  rain-drops  from 
his  overcoat,  which  he  carelessly  threw  upon  the  floor,  he 
took  a  chair  opposite  the  grate,  and  looking  Durward 
fully  in  the  face,  said,  "I've  come  over,  Bellmont,  to  ask 
you  a  few  plain,  unvarnished  questions,  which  I  believe 
you  will  answer  truthfully.  Am  I  right  ?  " 

"  Certainly,  sir— go  on,"  was  Durward's  reply. 

"  Well,  then,  to  begin,  are  you  and  'Lena  engaged  ?  » 

"  No,  sir." 

"  Have  you  been  engaged  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"  I>o  you  ever  expect  to  be  engaged  ?  " 

"No,  sir." 

"  Have  you  quarreled  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"Do  you  know  why  she  wished  to  have  Vesta  sent 

home?" 

"  I  suppose  I  do." 

"  Will  you  tell  me  ?  " 

"  No,  sir,"  said  Durward,  determined,  for  'Lena's  sake, 
that  no  one  should  wring  from  him  the  secret. 

John  Jr.  arose,  jammed  both  hands  into  his  pockets- 
walked  to  the  window— made  faces  at  the  weather- 
walked  back  to  the  grate— made  faces  at  that— kicked  it 
-and then  turning  to  Durward,  said,  "There's  the  old 
Nick  to  pay,  somewhere." 


THE  LETTER  AND  ITS  EFFECT.  250 

Nothing  from  Durward,  who  only  felt  bound  to  answer 
direct  questions. 

"  I  tell  you,  there's  the  old  Nick  to  pay,  somewhere," 
continued  John,  raising  his  voice.  "I  knew  it  all  the 
while  'Lena  was  sick.  I  read  it  in  her  face  when  I  told 
her  Mr.  Graham  had  gone  south — " 

A  faint  sickness  gathered  around  Durward's  heart,  and 
John  Jr.  proceeded  :  "  She  wouldn't  tell  me,  and  I've 
come  to  you  for  information.  Will  you  give  it  to  me  ?" 

'•No,  sir,"  said  Durward.  "The  nature  of  our  trouble 
is  known  only  to  ourselves  and  one  other  individual,  and 
I  shall  never  divulge  the  secret." 

"  Is  that  other  individual  my  mother  ?  " 

"  No,  sir." 

"Is  it  Cad?" 

"No,  sir." 

"  Had  they  any  agency  in  the  matter  ?" 

"  None,  whatever,  that  I  know  of." 

"  Then  I'm  on  the  wrong  track,  and  may  as  well  go 
home,"  said  John  Jr.,  starting  for  the  door,  where  he 
stopped,  while  he  added,  "  If,  Bellmont,  I  ever  do  hear 
of  your  having  misled  me  in  this  matter — "  He  did  not 
finish  the  sentence  in  words,  but  playfully  producing  a  re 
volver,  he  departed.  The  next  moment  he  was  dashing 
across  the  lawn,  the  mud  flying  in  every  direction,  and 
himself  thinking  how  useless  it  was  to  try  to  unravel  a 
love  quarrel.  . 

In  the  meantime,  'Lena  waited  impatiently  for  an  an 
swer  to  the  letter  which  she  had  sent  to  Mr.  Graham,  but 
day  after  day  glided  by,  and  still  no  tidings  came.  At 
last,  as  if  everything  had  conspired  against  her,  she  heard 
that  he  was  lying  dangerously  ill  of  a  fever  at  Havana, 
whither  lie  had  gone  in  quest  of  an  individual  whose 
presence  was  necessary  in  the  settlement  of  the  estate. 


260  'LENA  RIVERS. 

The  letter  which  brought  this  intelligence  to  Mrs.  Gra 
ham,  also  contained  a  request  that  she  would  come  to  him 
immediately,  and  within  a  few  days  after  its  receipt,  she 
started  for  Cuba,  together  with  Durward,  who  went  with 
out  again  seeing  'Lena. 

They  found  him  better  than  they  expected.  The  dan 
ger  was  past,  but  he  was  still  too  weak  to  move  himself, 
and  the  physician  said  it  would  be  many  weeks  ere  he 
was  able  to  travel.  This  rather  pleased  Mrs.  Graham 
than  otherwise.  She  was  fond  of  change,  and  had  often 
desired  to  visit  Havana,  so  now  that  she  was  there,  she 
made  the  best  of  it,  and  for  once  in  her  life  enacted  the 
part  of  a  faithful,  affectionate  wife. 

Often,  during  intervals  of  mental  aberration,  Mr.  Gra 
ham  spoke  of  "  Helena,"  imploring  her  forgiveness  for 
his  leaving  her  so  long,  and  promising  to  return.  Some 
times  he  spoke  of  her  as  being  dead,  and  in  piteous  ac 
cents  he  would  ask  of  Durward  to  bring  him  back  his 
"  beautiful  'Lena,"  who  was  sleeping  far  away  among  the 
New  England  mountains. 

One  day  when  the  servant,  as  usual,  came  in  with  their 
letters,  he  brought  one  directed  to  Mr.  Graham,  which 
had  been  forwarded  from  Charleston,  and  which  bore  the 
post-marks  of  several  places,  it  having  been  sent  hither 
and  thither,  ere  it  reached  its  place  of  destination.  It 
was  mailed  at  Frankfort,  Kentucky,  and  in  the  superscrip 
tion  Durward  readily  recognized  the  handwriting  ot 
'Lena. 

"  Worse  and  worse,"  thought  he,  now  fully  assured  of 
Her  worthlessness. 

For  a  moment  he  felt  tempted  to  break  the  seal,  but 
from  this  act  he  instinctively  shrank,  thinking  that  what 
ever  it  might  contain,  it  was  not  for  him  to  read  it.  But 
what  should  he  do  with  it  ?  Must  he  give  it  to  his  mother, 


JOHN  JR.  AND  MABEL.  261 

who  already  had  as  much  as  she  could  bear  ?  No,  'twas 
not  best  for  her  to  know  aught  about  it,  and  as  the  surest 
means  of  preventing  its  doing  further  trouble,  he  des 
troyed  it — burned  it  to  ashes — repenting  the  next  mo 
ment  of  the  deed,  wishing  he  had  read  it,  and  feeling, 
not  that  he  had  wronged  the  dead,  as  his  mother  did 
when  she  burned  the  chestnut  curl,  but  as  if  he  had  done 
a  wrong  to  'Lena. 

In  the  course  of  two  months  he  went  back  to  Wood- 
lawn,  leaving  his  father  and  mother  to  travel  leisurely 
from  place  to  place,  as  the  still  feeble  state  of  the  former 
would  admit.  'Lena,  who  had  returned  from  Frankfort, 
trembled  lest  he  should  come  to  Maple  Grove,  but  he 
seemed  equally  desirous  of  avoiding  a  meeting,  and  after 
lingering  about  Woodlawn  for  several  days,  he  suddenly 
departed  for  Louisville,  where,  for  a  time,  we  leave  him, 
while  we  follow  the  fortunes  of  others  connected  with 
our  story. 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 

JOHN    JR.     AND     MABEL. 

TIME  and  absence  had  gradually  softened  John  Jr.'s 
.^clings  toward  Nellie.  She  was  not  married  to  Mr.  Wil- 
*>ur — possibly  she  never  wTould  be — and  if  on  her  return 
U>  America  he  found  her  the  same,  he  would  lose  no  time 
i/i  seeing  her,  and,  if  possible,  secure  her  to  himself.  Such 
>-as  the  tenor  of  his  thoughts,  as  on  one  bright  morn  in -jj 
in  June  he  took  his  way  to  Lexington,  whither  he  waa 
Tjoing  on  business  for  his  father.  Before  leaving  tbo 


262  'LENA  RIVERS. 

city,  he  rode  down  to  the  depot,  as  was  his  usual  custom, 
reaching  there  just  as  the  cars  bound  for  Frankfort  were 
rolling  away.  Upon  the  platform  of  the  rear  car  stood 
an  acquaintance  of  his,  who  called  out,  "Halloo,  Living 
stone,  have  you  heard  the  news  ?  " 

"  News,  no.  What  news  ?"  asked  John  Jr.,  following 
after  the  fast  moving  train. 

"Bob  Wilbur  and  Nellie  Douglass  are  married," 
screamed  the  young  man,  who,  having  really  heard  of 
Mr.  Wilbur's  marriage,  supposed  it  must  of  course  be 
with  Nellie. 

John  Jr.  had  no  doubt  of  it,  and  for  a  moment  his 
heart  fainted  beneath  the  sudden  blow.  But  he  was  not 
one  to  yield  long  to  despair,  and  soon  recovering  from 
the  first  shock,  he  raved  in  uncontrollable  fury,  denoun 
cing  Nellie  as  worthless,  fickle,  and  good  for  nothing, 
mentally  wishing  her  much  joy  with  her  husband,  who 
in  the  same  breath  he  hoped  "  would  break  Ms  confound 
ed  neck,"  and  -ending  his  tirade  by  solemnly  vowing  to 
offer  himself  to  the  first  girl  he  met,  whether  black  or 
white ! 

Full  of  this  resolution  he  put  spurs  to  Firelock  and 
sped  away  over  the  turnpike,  looking  neither  to  the  right 
nor  the  left,  lest  a  chance  should  offer  for  the  fulfillment 
of  his  vow.  It  was  the  dusk  of  evening  when  he  reached 
home,  and  giving  his  horse  into  the  care  of  a  servant, 
he  walked  with  rapid  strides  into  the  parlor,  starting 
back  as  he  saw  Mabel  Ross,  who,  for  a  few  days  past, 
had  been  visiting  at  Maple  Grove. 

"There's  no  backing  out,"  thought  he.  "  It's  my  des 
tiny,  and  I'll  meet  it  like  a  man.  Nellie  spited  me,  and 
I'll  let  her  know  how  good  it  feels." 

"  Mabel,"  said  he,  advancing  toward  her,  "  will  you 
marry  me  ?  Say  yes  or  no,  quick." 


JOHN  JR.  AND  MABEL.  263 

This  was  not  quite  the  kind  of  wooing  which  Mabel 
had  expected.  'Twas  not  what  she  read  of  in  novels, 
but  then  it  was  in  keeping  with  the  rest  of  John  Jr.'s 
conduct,  and  very  frankly  and  naturally  she  answered 
"  Yes." 

"  Very  well,"  said  he,  beginning  to  feel  better  already, 
and  turning  to  leave  the  room — "  Very  well,  you  fix  the 
day,  and  arrange  it  all  yourself,  only  let  it  be  very  soon, 
for  now  I've  made  up  my  mind,  I'm  in  a  mighty  hurry." 

Mabel  laughed,  and  hardly  knowing  whether  he  were 
in  earnest  or  not,  asked  "  if  she  should  speak  to  the  min 
ister,  too." 

"  Yes,  no,"  said  he.  "  Just  tell  mother,  and  she'll  fix  it 
all  right.  Will  you?" 

And  he  walked  away,  feeling  nothing,  thinking  noth 
ing,  except  that  he  was  engaged.  Engaged !  The  very 
idea  seemed  to  add  new  dignity  to  him,  while  it  invested 
Mabel  with  a  charm  she  had  not  hitherto  possessed. 
John  Jr.  liked  everything  that  belonged  to  him  exclusively, 
and  Mabel  now  was  his — his  wife  she  would  be — and  when 
next  he  met  her  in  the  drawing-room,  his  manner  toward 
her  was  unusually  kind,  attracting  the  attention  of  his 
mother,  who  wondered  at  the  change.  One  after  another 
the  family  retired,  until  there  was  no  one  left  in  the  par 
lor  except  Mabel  and  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who,  as  her  hus 
band  chanced  to  be  absent,  had  invited  her  young  visitoi 
to  share  her  room.  When  they  were  alone,  Mabel,  with 
many  blushes  and  a  few  tears,  told  of  all  that  had  oc 
curred,  except,  indeed,  of  John's  manner  of  proposing, 
which  she  thought  best  not  to  confide  to  a  third  person. 

Eagerly  Mrs.  Livingstone  listened,  mentally  congratu 
lating  herself  upon  the  completion  of  her  plan  without  her 
further  interference,  wondering  the  while  how  it  had  been 
BO  suddenly  brought  about,  and  half  trembling  lest  it 


gG4  'LENA  UIVERS. 

Bhould  prove  a  failure  after  all.  So  when  Mabel  spoke  ol 
John  Jr.'s  wish  that  the  marriage  should  be  consummated 
immediately,  she  replied,  "  Certainly— by  all  means. 
There  is  no  necessity  for  delay.  You  can  marry  at  once, 
and  get  ready  afterwards.  It  is  now  the  last  of  June.  I 
had  thought  of  going  to  Saratoga  in  July,  and  a  bride  is 
just  the  thing  to  give  eclat  to  our  party." 

"  But,"  answered  Mabel,  who  hardly  fancied  a  wedding 
without  all  the  usual  preparations,  which  she  felt  she 
should  enjoy  so  much,  "  I  cannot  think  of  being  married 
until  October,  when  Nellie  perhaps  will  be  here. 

Nellie's  return  was  what  Mrs.  Livingstone  dreaded,  and 
very  ingeniously  she  set  herself  at  work  to  put  aside 
Mabel's  objections,  succeeding  so  far  that  the  young  girl 
promised   compliance   with   whatever  she   should  think 
proper.     The  next  morning,    as   John   Jr.  was   passing 
through  the  hall,  she  called  him  into  her  room,  delicately 
broaching  the  subject  of  his  engagement,  saying  she  knew 
he  could  not  help  loving  a  girl  possessed  of  so  many  ex- 
cellent  qualities  as  Mabel  Ross.     Very  patiently  John  Jr. 
heard  her  until  she   came  to  speak  of  love.     Then,  in 
much  louder  tones  than  newly  engaged  men  are  apt  to 
speak  of  their  betrothed,  he  exclaimed,  "  Love !     Fudge ! 
If  you  think  I'm  marrying  Mabel  for  love,  you  are  greatly 
mistaken.     I  like  her,  but  love  is  out  of  the  question." 
"  Pray  what  are  you  marrying  her  for  ?  Her  property  ?  " 
"Property!  "  repeated  John,  with  a  sneer,  "I've  seen 
the  effect  of  marrying  for  property,  and  I  trust  I'm  not 
despicable  enough  to  try  it  for  myself.     No,  madam,  I'm 
not  marrying  her  for  money— but  to  spite  Nellie  Doug 
lass,  if  you  must  know  the   reason.     I've  loved  her  as  I 
Bhall  never  again  love  woman-kind,  but  she  cheated  me. 
She's  married  to  Robert  Wilbur,  and  now  I've  too  much 
gpirit  to  have  her  think  I  care.     If  she  can  marry,  so  can 


JOHN  JR.  AND  MABEL  265 

1— she  isn't  the  only  girl  in  the  world— and  when  I  heard 
what  she  had  done,  I  vowed  I'd  offer  myself  to  the  first 
female  I  saw.  As  good  or  bad  luck  would  have  it,  'twas 
Mabel,  who  /ou  know  said  yes,  of  course,  for  I  verily  be 
lieve  she  likes  me  far  better  than  I  deserve.  What  kind 
of  a  husband  I  shall  make,  the  Lord  only  knows,  but  I'm 
in  for  it.  My  word  is  passed,  and  the  sooner  you  get  us 
tied  together  the  better,  but  for  heaven's  sake,  don't  go 
to  making  a  great  parade.  Mabel  has  no  particular  home. 
She's  here  now,  and  why  not  let  the  ceremony  take  place 
here.  But  fix  it  to  suit  yourselves,  only  don't  let  me  hear 
you  talking  about  it,  for  fear  I'll  get  sick  of  the  whole 
thing." 

This  was  exactly  what  Mrs.  Livingstone  desired.     She 
had  the  day  before  been  to  Frankfort  herself,  learning 
from  Mrs.  Atkins  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  marriage  with  the 
English  girl.     She  knew  her  son  was  deceived,  and  it  was 
highly  necessary  that  he  should  continue  so.     She  felt 
sure  that  neither  her  daughters,  Mabel,  nor  'Lena  knew 
f  Mr.  Wilbur's  marriage,  and  she  resolved  they  should 
not.     It  was  summer,  and  as  many  of  their  city  friends 
had  left  Frankfort  for  places  of  fashionable  resort,  they 
received  but  few  calls,  and  by  keeping  them  at  home  un- 
1  the  wedding  was  over,  she  trusted  that  all  would  be 
safe  in  that  quarter.     Durward,  too,  was  fortunately  ab 
sent,  so  she  only  had  to  deal  with  Mabel  and  John  Jr. 
The  first  of  these  she  approached  very  carefully,  casually 
telling  her  of  Mr.  Wilbur's  marriage,  and  then  hastily 

ding,  "But  pray  don't  speak  of  it  to  any  one,  as  there 
are  special  reasons  why  it  should  not  at  present  be  dis 
cussed.  Sometime  I  may  tell  you  the  reason." 

Mabel  wondered  why  so  small  a  matter  should  be  a  se 
cret,  but  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  requested  her  to  keep  si 
lence,  and  that  was  a  sufficient  reason  why  she  should  do 


2G6  'LENA  RIVERS. 

BO.  The  next  step  was  to  win  her  consent  for  tkr  cor^nio- 
ny  to  take  place  there,  and  in  the  course  of  thr^e  weeks, 
saying  that  it  was  her  son's  wish.  But  on  this  point  she 
found  more  difficulty  than  she  had  anticipated,  for  Mabel 
shrank  from  being  married  at  the  house  of  his  father. 

"It  didn't  look  right,"  said  she,  "and  she  knew  Mr. 
Douglass  would  not  object  to  having  it  there." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  knew  so,  too,  but  there  was  too  much 
danger  in  such  an  arrangement,  and  she  replied,  "  Of 
course  not,  if  you  request  it,  but  will  it  be  quite  proper 
for  you  to  ask  him  to  be  at  all  that  trouble  when  Nellie 
is  gone,  and  there  is  no  one  at  home  to  superintend  ?  " 

So  after  a  time  Mabel  was  convinced,  thinking,  though, 
how  differently  everything  was  turning  out  from  what 
she  expected.  Three  weeks  from  that  night  was  fixed 
upon  for  the  bridal,  to  which  but  few  were  to  be  invited, 
for  Mrs.  Livingstone  did  not  wish  to  call  forth  remark. 

"Everything  should  be  done  quietly  and  in  order," 
she  said,  "  and  then,  when  autumn  came,  she  would  give 
a  splendid  party  in  honor  of  the  bride." 

Mr.  Douglass,  when  told  of  the  coming  event  by  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  who  would  trust  no  one  else,  expressed  much 
surprise,  saying  he  greatly  preferred  that  the  ceremony 
should  take  place  at  his  own  house. 

"  Of  course,"  returned  the  oily-tongued  woman,  " 
course  you  had,  but  even  a  small  wedding  party  is  a  vast 
amount  of  trouble,  and  in  Nellie's  absence  you  would  be 
disturbed.  Were  she  here  I  would  not  say  a  word,  but 
now  I  insist  upon  having  it  my  own  way,  and  indeed,  1 
think  my  claim  upon  Mabel  is  the  strongest." 

Silenced,  but  not  quite  convinced,  Mr.  Douglass  said 

no  more,  thinking,  meanwhile,  that  if  he  only  could  afford 

it    Mabel  should  have  a  wedding  worthy  of  her.     But  ho 

oould  not ;  he  was  poor,  and  hence  Mrs.  Livingstone'* 

I  13 


JOHN  JR.  AND  MABEL.  267 

arguments  prevailed  the  more  easily.  Fortunately  for 
her,  John  Jr.  manifested  no  inclination  to  go  out  at  all. 
A  kind  of  torpor  seemed  to  have  settled  upon  him,  and 
clay  after  day  he  remained  at  home,  sometimes  in  a  deep 
study  in  his  own  room,  and  sometimes  sitting  in  the  par 
lor,  where  his  very  unlover-like  deportment  frequently 
brought  tears  to  Mabel's  eyes,  while  Carrie  loudly  de 
nounced  him  as  the  most  clownish  fellow  she  ever  saw. 

"  I  hope  you'll  train  him,  Mabel,"  said  she,  "  for  he 
needs  it.  He  ought  to  have  had  Nellie  Douglass.  She's 
a  match  for  him.  Why  didn't  you  have  her,  John  ?  " 

With  a  face  dark  as  night,  he  angrily  requested  Carrie 
"  to  mind  her  own  business,"  saying  "  he  was  fully  com 
petent  to  take  charge  of  himself,  without  the  interference 
of  either  wife  or  sister." 

"Oh,  what  if  he  should  look  and  talk  so  to  me!" 
thought  Mabel,  shuddering  as  a  dim  foreboding  of  her 
sad  future  came  over  her. 

'Lena,  who  understood  John  Jr.  better  than  any  one 
else,  saw  that  all  was  not  right.  She  knew  how  much  he 
had  loved  Nellie;  she  believed  he  loved  her  still;  and 
why  should  he  marry  another  ?  She  could  not  tell,  and 
as  he  withheld  his  confidence  from  her,  appearing  unu 
sually  moody  and  cross,  she  dared  not  approach  him.  At 
last,  having  an  idea  of  what  she  wanted,  and  willing  to 
give  her  a  chance,  he  one  day,  when  they  were  alone,  ab 
ruptly  asked  her  what  she  thought  of  his  choice. 

"If  you  ask  me  what  I  think  of  Mabel,"  said  she,  "I 
answer  that  I  esteem  her  very  highly,  and  the  more  1 
know  her  the  better  I  love  her.  Still,  I  never  thought 
she  would  be  your  wife." 

"  Ah — indeed ! — never  thought  she  would,  hey  f  "  an- 
swercd  John,  beginning  to  grow  crusty,  and  elevating  hi? 


208  'LENA  RIVERS. 

feet   to   the   top 'of  the  mantel.     "You  see  now  what 
ought  did  ;  but  what  is  your  objection  to  her?  » 
"  Nothing,  nothing,"  returned  'Lena.     "  Mabel  is  am*, 
^le,  gentle,  and  confiding,  and  wiU  try  to  be  a  good  wife." 
"What  the  deuce  are  you  grumbling  for,  then?  "  in 
terrupted  John  Jr.     "Do  you  want  me  yourself  ?     If 
you   do,  just  say  the  word,  and  it  shall  be  done  !     I'm 
bound  to  be  married,  and  I'd  sooner  have  you  than  any 
body  else.     Come,  what  do  you  say  ?  " 

'Lena  smiled,  while  she  disclaimed  any  intention  to 
ward  her  cousin,  who,  resuming  the  position  which  in  his 
excitement  he  had  slightly  changed,  continued:  "I  have 
always  dealt  fairly  with  you,  'Lena,  and  now  I  tell  you 
truly,  I  have  no  particular  love  for  Mabel,  although  I  in 
tend  making  her  my  wife,  and  heartily  wish  she  was  so 


now. 


'Lena  started,  and  clasping  John's  arm,  exclaimed, 
« Marry  Mabel  and  not  love  her !  You  cannot  be  in 
earnest.  You  will  not  do  her  so  great  a  wrong— you 

shall  not." 

"I  don't  know  how  you'll  help  it,  unless  you  medd 
with  what  does   not  concern  you,"  said  John.     "I  am 
doing   her  no  wrong.     I  never   told  her  I  loved  her- 
ncver  acted  as  though  I  did;  and  if  she  is  content  to  have 
me  on  such  terms,  it's  nobody's  business.     She  loves  'me 
half  to  death,  and  if  the  old  adage  be  true  that  love  be 
gets  love,  I  shall  learn  to  love  her,  and  when  I  do  I'll  let 
you  know." 

So  saying,  the  young  man  shook  down  his  pants,  wlncl 
had  become  disarranged,  and  walked  away,  leaving  'Lena 
to  wonder  what  course  she  had  better  pursue.  Once  she 
resolved  on  telling  Mabel  all  that  had  passed  between 
them,  but  the  next  moment  convinced  her  that,  as  he  had 
said,  she  would  be  meddling,  so  she  decided  to  say  nothr 


JOHN  JR.  AND  MABEL.  20  § 

ing,  silently  hoping  that  affairs  would  turn  out  better 
than  she  feared. 

It  was  Mabel's  wish  that  'Lena  and  Anna  should  be  her 
bridesmaids,  Durward  and  Malcolm  officiating  as  grooms 
men,  and  as  Mr.  Bellmont  was  away,  she  wrote  to  him, 
requesting  his  attendance,  but  saying  she  had  not  yet  men 
tioned  the  subject  to  'Lena.  Painful  as  was  the  task  of  be 
ing  thus  associated  with  'Lena,  Durward  felt  that  to  re 
fuse  might  occasion  much  remark,  so  he  wrote  to  Mabel 
that  "  he  would  comply  with  her  request,  provided  Miss 
Rivers  were  willing." 

"  Of  course  she's  willing,"  said  Mabel  to  herself,  at  the 
same  time  running  with  the  letter  to  'Lena,  who,  to  her 
utter  astonishment,  not  only  refused  outright,  but  also 
declined  giving  any  particular  reason  for  her  doing  so. 
"  Carrie  will  suit  him  much  better  than  I,"  said  she,  but 
unfortunately,  Carrie,  who  chanced  to  be  present,  half 
hidden  in  the  recess  of  a  window,  indignantly  declined 
"going  Jack-at-a-pinch"  with  any  one,  so  Mabel  was 
obliged  to  content  herself  with  Anna  and  Mr.  Everett. 

But  here  a  new  difficulty  arose,  for  Mrs.  Livingstone 
declared  that  the  latter  should  not  be  invited,  and  Anna, 
in  a  fit  of  anger,  insisted  that  if  he  were  not  good  enough 
to  be  present,  neither  was  she,  and  she  should  accordingly 
remain  in  her  own  room.  Poor  Mabel  burst  into  tears, 
and  when,  a  few  moment's  afterward,  John  Jr.  appeared, 
asking  what  ailed  her,  she  hid  her  face  in  his  bosom  and 
sobbed  like  a  child.  Then,  frightened  at  her  own  temer 
ity,  for  he  gave  her  no  answering  caress,  she  lifted  up  her 
head,  while  with  a  quizzical  expression  John  Jr.  said, 
"  So-ho,  Meb,  seems  to  me  you've  taken  to  crying  on  my 
jacket  a  little  in  advance.  But  what's  the  matter  ?  " 

In  a  few  words  Mabel  told  him  how  everything  went 
wrong,  how  neither  'Lena,  Carrie,  nor  Anna  would  be 


270  'LENA  RIVERS. 

her  bridesmaids,  and  how  Anna  wouldn't  see  her  mar- 
ried  because  Malcolm  was  not  invited. 

"  I  can  manage  that,"  said  John  Jr.  Mr.  Everett  shall 
be  invited,  so  just  shut  up  crying,  for  if  there's  anything 
I  detest,  it's  a  woman's  sniveling ; "  and  he  walked  off, 
thinking  he  had  begun  just  as  he  meant  to  hold  out. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

THE    BRIDAL. 

'TwAS  Mabel's  wedding  night,  and  in  one  of  the  upper 
rooms  of  Mr.  Livingstone's  house  she  stood  awaiting  the 
summons  to  the  parlor.  They  had  arrayed  her  for  the 
bridal ;  Mrs.  Livingstone,  Carrie,  Lena,  Anna,  and  the 
seamstress,  all  had  had  something  to  do  with  her  toilet, 
and  now  they  had  left  her  for  a  time  with  him  who  was 
so  soon  to  be  her  husband.  She  knew — for  they  had  told 
her — she  was  looking  uncommonly  well.  Her  dress,  of 
pure  white  satin,  was  singularly  becoming ;  pearls  were 
interwoven  in  the  heavy  braids  of  her  raven  hair ;  the 
fleecy  folds  of  the  rich  veil,  which  fell  like  a  cloud  around 
her,  swept  the  floor.  In  her  eye  there  was  an  unusual 
sparkle  and  on  her  cheek  an  unwonted  bloom. 

Still  Mabel  was  not  happy.  There  was  a  heavy  pain 
at  her  heart — a  foreboding  of  coming  evil — and  many  an 
anxious  glance  she  cast  toward  the  stern,  silent  man, 
who,  with  careless  tread,  walked  up  and  down  the  room, 
utterly  regardless  of  her  presence,  and  apparently  ab 
sorbed  in  bitter  reflections.  Once  only  had  she  ventured 


THE  b^IDAL.  271 

to  speak,  and  then,  iu  child-like  simplicity,  she  had  aske*1 
him  "  how  she  looked." 

"  Well  enough,"  was  his  answer,  as,  without  raisin  <r  « 
eyes,  he  continued  his  walk. 

The  tears  gathered  in  Mabel's  eyes — she  could  not  help 
it ;  drop  after  drop  they  came,  falling  upon  the  marble 
table,  until  John  Jr.,  who  saw  more  than  he  pretended, 
came  to  her  side,  asking  "  why  she  wept." 

Mabel  was  beginning  to  be  terribly  afraid  of  him,  and 
for  a  moment  she  hesitated,  but  at  length,  summoning  all 
her  courage,  she  wound  her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  in 
low,  earnest  tones,  said,  "Tell  me  truly,  do  you  wish  to 
marry  me  ?  " 

"  And  suppose  I  do  not  ?  "  he  asked,  with  the  samo 
stony  composure. 

Stepping  backward,  Mabel  stood  proudly  erect  before 
him,  and  answered,  "  Then  would  I  die  rather  than  wed 
you !  " 

There  was  something  in  her  appearance  and  attitude 
peculiarly  attractive  to  John  Jr.  Never  in  his  life  had 
he  felt  so  much  interested  in  her,  and  drawing  her  toward 
him  and  placing  his  arm  around  her,  he  said,  gently,  "  Be 
calm,  little  Meb,  you  are  nervous  to-night.  Of  course  I 
wish  you  to  be  my  wife,  else  I  had  not  asked  you.  Are 
you  satisfied  ?  " 

The  joyous  glance  of  the  dark  eyes  lifted  so  confidingly 
to  his,  was  a  sufficient  answer,  and  as  if  conscious  of  the 
injustice  he  was  about  to  do  her,  John  Jr.  bent  for  an  in 
stant  over  her  slight  figure,  mentally  resolving,  that  so 
far  as  in  him  lay  he  would  be  true  to  his  trust.  There 
w  as  a  knock  at  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Livingstone  herself 
looked  in,  pale,  anxious,  and  expectant.  Mr.  Douglass, 
who  was  among  the  invited  guests,  had  arrived,  and  must 
have  an  interview  with  Tohn  Jr.  ere  the  ceremony 


272  'LENA    RIVERS. 

'Twas  in  vain  she  attempted  politely  to  waive  his  request, 
He  would  see  him,  and  distracted  with  fear,  she  had  at 
last  conducted  him  into  the  upper  hall,  and  out  upon  an 
open  veranda,  where  in  the  moonlight  he  awaited  the 
coming  of  the  bridegroom,  who,  with  some  curiosity,  ap 
proached  him,  asking  what  he  wanted. 

"It  may  seem  strange  to  you,"  said  Mr.  Donglass, 
"  that  I  insist  upon  seeing  you  now,  when  another  time 
might  do  as  well,  but  I  believe  in  having  a  fail-  under 
standing  all  round." 

"  Meddling  old  rascal !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
who,  of  course,  was  within  hearing,  bending  her  ears  so 
as  not  to  lose  a  word. 

But  in  this  she  was  thwarted,  for  drawing  nearer  to 
John  Jr.,  Mr.  Douglass  said,  so  low  as  to  prevent  her 
catching  anything  further,  save  the  sound  of  his  voice, 

"  I  do  not  accuse  you  of  being  at  all  mercenary,  but 
such  things  have  been,  and  there  has  something  come  to 
my  knowledge  to-day,  which  I  deem  it  my  duty  to  tell 
you,  so  that  hereafter  you  can  neither  blame  me  nor 
Mabel." 

"What  is  it?"  asked  John  Jr.,  and  Mr.  Douglass  re 
plied,  "  To  be  brief,  then,  Mabel's  large  fortune  is,  with 
the  exception  of  a  few  thousands,  of  which  I  have  charge, 
all  swept  away  by  the  recent  failure  of  the  Planters'  Bank, 
in  which  it  was  invested.  I  heard  of  it  this  morning,  and 
determined  on  telling  you,  knowing  that  if  you  loved  her 
for  herself,  it  would  make  no  difference,  while  if  you 
loved  her  for  her  money,  it  were  far  better  to  stop  here." 

Nothing  could  have  been  further  from  John's  thoughts 
than  a  desire  for  Mabel's  wealth,  which,  precious  as  it 
Beemed  in  his  mother's  eyes,  was  valueless  to  him,  and 
after  a  moment's  silence,  in  which  he  was  thinking  what  a 
rich  disappointment  it  would  be  to  his  mother,  who,  ho 


THE  BRIDAL.  273 

knew,  prized  Mabel  only  for  her  money,  he  exclaimed, 
"  Good,  I'm  glad  of  it.  I  never  sought  Mabel's  hand  for 
what  there  was  in  it,  and  I'm  more  ready  to  marry  her 
now  than  ever.  But,"  he  added,  as  a  sudden  impulse  of 
good  came  over  him,  "  She  need  not  know  it ;  it  would 
trouble  her  uselessly,  and  for  the  present  we'll  keep  it 
from  her." 

John  Jr.  had  always  been  a  puzzle  to  Mr.  Douglass, 
who  by  turns  censured  and  admired  him,  but  now  there 
was  but  one  feeling  in  his  bosom  toward  him,  and  that 
was  one  of  unbounded  respect.  With  a  warm  pressure 
of  the  hand  he  turned  away,  thinking,  perchance,  of  his 
fair  young  daughter,  who,  far  away  o'er  the  Atlantic  wave, 
little  dreamed  of  the  scene  on  which  that  summer  moon 
was  shining.  As  the  conference  ended,  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
who  had  learned  nothing,  glided  from  her  hiding-place, 
eagerly  scanning  her  son's  face  to  see  if  there  was  aught 
to  justify  her  fears.  But  there  was  nothing,  and  with  her 
heart  beating  at  its  accustomed  pace,  she  descended  the 
stairs  in  tune  to  meet  Durward,  who,  having  reached 
Woodlawn  that  day,  had  not  heard  of  'Lena's  decision. 

"This  way,  Marster  Bellmont — up  stars  is  the  gentle 
man's  room,"  said  the  servant  in  attendance,  and  ascend 
ing  the  stairs,  Durward  met  with  Anna,  asking  her  for 
her  cousin. 

"  Jn  there— go  in,"  said  Anna,  pointing  to  a  half-open 
door,  and  then  hurrying  away  to  meet  Malcolm,  whose 
coming  she  had  seen  from  the  window. 

Hesitatingly,  Durward  approached  the  chamber  indi 
cated,  and  as  his  knock  me'  with  no  response,  he  ven 
tured  at  last  to  enter  unannounced  into  the  presence  of 
'Lena,  whom  he  had  not  met  since  that  well-remembered 
night.  Tastefully  attired  for  the  wedding  in  a  simple 
white  muslin,  she  sat  upon  a  little  stool  with  her  faca 
L*  18 


274  'LEX A  RIVERS. 

buried  in  the  cushions  of  the  sofa.  She  had  heard  his 
voice  in  the  lower  hall,  and  knowing  she  must  soon  meet 
him,  she  had  for  a  moment  abandoned  herself  to  the  tu 
mult  of  bitter  thoughts,  which  came  sweeping  over  her 
in  that  trying  hour.  She  was  weeping — he  knew  that  by 
I  he  trembling  of  her  body — and  for  an  instant  everything 
was  forgotten. 

Advancing  softly  toward  her,  he  was  about  to  lay  his 
hand  upon  those  clustering  curls  which  fell  unheeded 
around  her,  when  the  thought  that  from  among  them 
had  been  cut  the  hated  tress  which  his  mother  had  cast 
into  the  flames,  arrested  his  hand,  and  he  was  himself 
again.  Forcing  down  his  emotion,  he  said,  calmly,  "  Miss 
Rivers,"  and  starting  quickly  to  her  feet,  'Lena  demanded 
proudly  what  he  would  have,  and  why  he  was  there. 

"  Pardon  me,"  said  he,  as  he  marked  her  haughty  bear- 
ing  and  glanced  at  her  dress,  which  was  hardly  in  accord 
ance  with  that  of  a  bridesmaid ;  "  I  supposed  I  was  to  be 
groomsman — am  I  mistaken  ?  " 

"  So  far  as  I  am  concerned  you  are,  sir.  I  knew  noth 
ing  of  Mabel's  writing  to  you,  or  I  should  have  prevented 
it,  for  after  what  has  occurred,  you  cannot  deem  me  weak 
enough  to  lend  myself  to  such  an  arrangement." 

And  'Lena  walked  out  of  the  room,  while  Durward 
looked  after  her  in  amazement,  one  moment  admiring  her 
spirit,  and  the  next  blaming  Mabel  for  not  informing  Jiim 
how  matters  stood.  "  But  there's  no  help  for  it  now," 
thought  he,  as  he  descended  the  stairs  and  made  his  way 
into  the  parlor,  whither  'Lena  had  preceded  him. 

And  thus  ended  an  interview  of  which  'Lena  had 
thought  so  much,  hoping  and  praying  that  it  might  result 
in  a  reconciliation.  But  it  was  over  now — the  breach 
was  wider  than  ever — and  with  half-benumbed  faculties 
ehe  leaned  against  the  open  window,  unconscious  of  the 


THE  BRIDAL.  275 

earnest  desire  he  felt  to  approach  her,  for  there  was  about 
her  a  strange  fascination  which  it  required  all  his  powe^ 
to  resist. 

When  at  last  all  was  in  readiness,  a  messenger  was  dis 
patched  to  John  Jr.,  who,  without  a  word,  offered  his 
arm  to  Mabel,  and  descending  the  broad  staircase,  they 
Rtood  within  the  parlor  in  the  spot  which  had  been  as 
signed  them.  Once  during  the  ceremony  he  raised  his 
eyes,  encountering  those  of  'Lena,  fixed  upon  him  so  re 
proachfully  that  with  a  scowl  he  turned  away.  Mechani 
cally  he  went  through  with  his  part  of  the  service,  betray 
ing  no  emotion  whatever,  until  the  solemn  words  which 
made  them  one  were  uttered.  Then,  when  it  was  over— 
when  he  was  bound  to  her  forever— he  seemed  suddenly 
to  awake  from  his  apathy  and  think  of  what  he  had  done. 
Crowding  around  him,  they  came  with  words  of  congrat 
ulation — all  but  'Lena,  who  tarried  behind,  for  she  had 
none  to  give.  Wretched  as  she  was  herself,  she  pitied 
the  frail  young  bride,  whose  half-joyous,  half-timid  glances 
toward  the  frigid  bridegroom,  showed  that  already  was 
she  sipping  from  the  bitter  cup  whose  very  dregs  she  was 
destined  to  drain. 

In  the  recess  of  a  window  near  to  John  Jr.,  Mr. 
Douglass  and  Durward  stood,  speaking  together  of  Nel 
lie,  and  though  John  shrank  from  the  sound  of  her  name, 
his  hearing  faculties  seemed  unusually  sharpened,  and  he 
lost  not  a  word  of  what  they  were  saying. 

"  So  Nellie  is  coming  home  in  the  autumn,  I  am  told," 
said  Durward,  "  and  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  I  miss  her  much. 
But  what  is  it  about  Mr.  Wilbur's  marriage.  Wasn't  it 
rather  unexpected  ?  " 

"No,  not  very.  Nellie  knew  before  she  went  that  he 
was  engaged  to  Miss  Allen,  but  at  his  sister's  request  she 


276  'LENA  RIVERS. 


kept  it  still.     He  found  her  at  a  boarding-school  in  Mon* 
treal,  several  years  ago." 

"  Will  they  remain  in  Europe  ?  " 

"  For  a  time,  at  least,  until  Mary  is  better— but  Nellie 
conies  home  with  some  friends  from  New  Haven,  whom 
she  met  in  Paris ; "  then  in  a  low  tone  Mr.  Douglass  ad 
ded,  "  I  almost  dread  the  effect  of  this  marriage  upon  her, 
for  I  am  positive  she  liked  him  better  than  any  one  else." 
The  little  white,  blue-veined  hand  which  rested  on  that 
of  John  Jr.,  was  suddenly  pressed  so  spasmodically,  lhat 
Mabel  looked  up  inquiringly  in  the  face  which  had^io 
thought  for  her,  for  Mr.  Douglass'  words  had  fallen  upon 
him  like  a  thunderbolt,  crushing  him  to  the  earth,  and  for  a 
moment  rendering  him  powerless.     Instantly  he  compre 
hended  it  all.     He  had  deceived  himself,  and  by  his  im 
petuous  haste  lost  all  that  he  held  most  dear  on  earth. 
There  was  a  cry  of  faintness,  a  grasping  at  empty  space 
to  keep  from  falling,  and  then  forth  into  the  open  air  they 
led  the  half-fainting  man,  followed  by  his  frightened  bride, 
who   tenderly  bathed  his  damp,  cold  brow,  unmindful 
how  he  shrank  from  her,  shuddering  as  he  felt  the  touch 
of  her   soft  hand,  and  motioning  her   aside   when   she 
stooped  to  part  from  his  forehead  the  heavy  locks  of  hia 
hair. 

That  night,  the  pale  starlight  of  another  hemisphere 
kept  watch  over  a  gentle  girl,  who  'neath  the  blue  skies  of 
sunny  France,  dreamed  of  her  distant  home  across  the 
ocean  wave;  of  the  gray-haired  man,  who,  with  every 
morning  light  and  evening  shade,  blessed  her  as  his  child ; 
of  another,  whose  image  was  ever  present  with  her,  whom 
from  her  childhood  she  had  loved,  and  whom  neither  time 
nor  distance  could  efface  from  her  memory. 

Later,  and  the  silvery  moon  looked  mournfully  down 
upon  the  white,  naggard  face  and  heavy  bloodshot  eye  of 


MARRIED  LIFE.  277 

nim  who  counted  each  long,  dreary  hour  as  it  passed  by, 
cursing  the  fate  which  had  made  him  what  he  was,  and 
unjustly  hardening  his  heart  against  his  innocent,  unsus- 
uecting  wife. 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

MABEIED    LIFE. 

FOR  a  short  time  after  their  marriage,  John  Jr.  treated 
Mabel  with  at  least  a  show  of  attention,  but  he  was  not 
one  to  act  long  as  he  did  not  feel.  Had  Nellie  been,  in 
deed,  the  wife  of  another,  he  might  in  time  have  learned 
to  love  Mabel  as  she  deserved,  but  now  her  presence  only 
served  to  remind  him  of  what  he  had  lost,  and  at  last  he 
began  to  shun  her  society,  never  seeming  willing  to  be 
left  with  her  alone,  and  either  repulsing  or  treating  with 
indifference  the  many  little  acts  of  kindness  which  her 
affectionate  nature  prompted.  To  all  this  Mabel  was  not 
blind,  and  when  once  she  began  to  suspect  her  true  po 
sition,  it  was  easy  Tor  her  to  fancy  slights  where  none 
were  intended. 

Thus,  ere  she  had  been  two  months  a  wife,  her  life  was 
one  of  constant  unhappiness,  and,  as  a  matter  of  course, 
her  health,  which  had  been  much  improved,  began  to  fail. 
Her  old  racking  headaches  returned  with  renewed  force, 
confining  her  for  whole  days  to  her  room,  where  she  lay 
listening  in  vain  for  the  footsteps  which  never  camo,  and 
tended  only  by  'Lena,  who,  in  proportion  as  the  others 
neglected  her,  clung  to  her  more  and  more.  The  trip  to 
Saratoga  was  given  up,  John  Jr.  in  the  bitterness  of  his 
disappointment  utterly  refusing  to  go,  and  saying  thero 


278  'LENA  RIVERS. 

was  nothing  sillier  tlian  for  a  newly-married  couple  to  go 
riding  around  the  country,  disgusting  sensible  people  with 
their  fooleries.  So  with  a  burst  of  tears  Mabel  yielded, 
and  her  bridal  tour  extended  no  further  than  Frankfort, 
whither  her  husband  did  once  accompany  her,  dining  out 
even  then  with  an  old  schoolmate  whom  he  chanced  to 
meet,  and  almost  forgetting  to  call  at  Mr.  Douglass'  for 
Mabel  when  it  was  time  to  return  home. 

Erelong,  too,  another  source  of  trouble  arose,  which 
shipwrecked   entirely   the   poor  bride's   happiness.     By 
some  means  or  other  it  at  last  came  to  Mrs.  Livingstone's 
knowledge  that  Mabel's  fortune  was  not  only  all  gone,  but 
that  her  son  had  known  it  in  time  to  prevent  his  marry 
ing  her.     Owing  to  various  losses  her  own  property  had 
for  a  few  years  past  been  gradually  diminishing,  and  when 
she  found  that  Mabel's  fortune,  which  she  leaned  upon  as 
an  all-powerful  prop,  was  swept  away,  it  was  more  than 
she  could  bear  peaceably ;  and  in  a  fit  of  disappointed 
rage  she  assailed  her  son,  reproaching  him  with  bringing 
disgrace  upon  the  family  by  marrying  a  poor,  homely, 
sickly  girl,  who  would  be  forever  incurring  expense  with 
out  any  means  of  paying  it !     For  once,  however,  she 
found  her  match,  for  in  good  round  terms  John  Jr.  bade 
her  "  go  to  thunder,"  his  favorite  point  of  destination  for 
his  particular  friends,  at  the  same  time  saying,  "  he  did'nt 
care  a  dime  for  Mabel's  money.     It  was  you,"  said  he, 
"  who  kept  your  eye  on  that,  aiding  and  abetting  the 
match,  and  now  that  you  are  disappointed,  I'm  heartily 
glad  of  it." 

"  But  who  is  going  to  pay  for  her  board,"  asked  Mrs. 
Livingstone.  "  You've  no  means  of  earning  it,  and  I  hope 
von  don't  intend  to  sponge  out  of  me,  for  I  think  I've 
i-.nough  paupers  on  my  hands  already  !  " 

"Board!"    roared  John  Jr.  in   a  towering  passion. 


MARRIED  LIFE.  279 

"  While  you  thought  her  rich,  you  gave  no  heed  to  board 
or  anything  else ;  and  since  she  has  become  poor,  I  do 
not  think  her  appetite  greatly  increased.  You  taunt  me, 
too,  with  having  no  means  of  earning  my  own  living. 
Whose  fault  is  it  ? — tell  me  that.  Havn't  you  always  op 
posed  my  having  a  profession?  Didn't  yon  pet  and  baby 
"  Johnny"  when  a  boy,  keeping  him  always  at  your  apron- 
strings,  and  now  that  he's  a  man,  he's  not  to  be  turned 
adrift.  No,  madam,  I  shall  stay,  and  Mabel,  too,  just  as 
long  as  I  please." 

Gaining  no  satisfaction  from  him,  Mis.  Livingstone 
turned  her  battery  upon  poor  Mabel,  treating  her  with 
shameful  neglect,  intimating  that  she  was  in  the  way  ;  that 
the  house  was  full  enough  already,  and  that  she  never 
supposed  John  was  going  to  settle  down  at  home  for  her 
to  support ;  that  he  was  big  enough  to  look  after  himself, 
and  if  he  chose  to  marry  a  wife  who  had  nothing,  why  let 
them  go  to  work,  as  other  folks  did. 

Mabel  listened  in  perfect  amazement,  never  dreaming 
what  was  meant,  for  John  Jr.  had  carefully  kept  from  her 
a  knowledge  of  her  loss,  requesting  his  mother  to  do  the 
same  in  such  decided  terms,  that,  hint  as  strongly  as  she 
pleased,  she  dared  not  tell  the  whole,  for  fear  of  the  storm 
which  was  sure  to  follow.  All  this  was  not,  of  course,  cal 
culated  to  add  to  Mabel's  comfort,  and  day  by  day  she 
grew  more  and  more  unhappy,  generously  keeping  to  her 
self,  however,  the  treatment  which  she  received  from  Mrs. 
Livingstone. 

"  He  will  only  dislike  me  the  more  if  I  complain  to  him 
of  his  mother,"  thought  she,  so  the  secret  was  kept,  though 
she  could  not  always  repress  the  tears  which  would  start 
<vhen  she  thought  how  wretched  she  was. 

We  believe  we  have  said  elsewhere,  that  if  there  was 
anything  particularly  annoying  to  John  Jr.,  it  was  a  siclj 


80  'LENA  RIVERS. 

or  crying  woman,  and  now,  when  he  so  often  found  Mabel 
indisposed  or  weeping,  he  grew  more  morose  and  fault 
finding,  sometimes  wantonly  accusing  her  of  trying  to  pro 
voke  him,  when,  in  fact,  she  had  used  every  means  in  her 
power  to  conciliate  him.  Again,  conscience-smitten,  he 
would  lay  her  aching  head  upon  his  bosom,  and  tenderly 
bathing  her  throbbing  temples,  would  soothe  her  into  a 
quiet  sleep,  from  which  she  always  awoke  refreshed,  and 
in  her  heart  forgiving  him  for  all  he  had  made  her  suffer. 
At  such  times,  John  would  resolve  never  again  to  treat 
her  unkindly,  but  alas!  his  resolutions  were  too  easily 
broken.  Had  he  married  Nellie,  a  more  faithful,  affec 
tionate  husband  there  could  not  have  been.  But  now  it 
was  different.  A  withering  blight  had  fallen  upon  his 
earthly  prospects,  and  forgetting  that  he  alone  was  to 
blame,  he  unjustly  laid  the  fault  upon  his  innocent  wife, 
who,  as  far  as  she  was  able,  loved  him  as  deeply  as  Nellie 
herself  could  have  done. 

One  morning  about  the  first  of  September,  John  Jr.  re- 
ceived  a  note,  informing  him  that  several  of  his  young  as 
sociates  were  going  on  a  three  days'  hunting  excursion,  in 
which  they  wished  him  to  join.  In  the  large,  easy  chair, 
just  before  him,  sat  Mabel,  her  head  supported  by  pillows 
and  saturated  with  camphor,  while  around  her  eyes  were 
the  dark  rings  which  usually  accompanied  her  headaches. 
Involuntarily  John  Jr.  glanced  toward  her.  Had  it  been 
Nellie,  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world  could  not  have  in 
duced  him  to  leave  her,  but  Mabel  was  altogether  another 
person,  and  more  for  the  sake  of  seeing  what  she  would 
say,  than  from  any  real  intention  of  going,  he  read  the  note 
aloud;  then  carelessly  thro  whig  it  aside,  he  said,  "Ah, 
yes,  I'll  go.  It'll  be  rare  fun  camping  out  these  moonlight 

nights." 

Much  as  she  feared  him,  Mabel  could  not  bear  to  have 


MARRIED  LIFE.  281 

him  out  of  her  sight,  and  now,  at  the  first  intimation  of 
his  leaving  her,  her  lip  began  to  tremble,  while  tears  filled 
her  eyes  and  dropped  upon  her  cheeks.  This  was  enough, 
and  mentally  styling  her  "a  perfect  cry-baby,"  he  re- 
solved  to  go  at  all  hazards. 

"  I  don't  think  you  ought  to  leave  Mabel,  she  feels  so 
badly,"  said  Anna,  who  was  present. 

"  I  want  to  know  if  little  Anna's  got  so  she  can  dic 
tate  me,  too,"  answered  John,  imitating  her  voice,  and 
adding,  that  "  he  reckoned  Mabel  would  get  over  her  bad 
feelings  quite  as  well  without  him  as  with  him." 

More  for  the  sake -of  opposition  than  because  she  really 
cared,  Carrie,  too,  chimed  in,  saying  that  "he  was  a  pretty 
specimen  of  a  three  month's  husband,"  and  asking  "  how 
he  ever  expected  to  answer  for  all  of  Mabel's  tears  and 
headaches." 

"  Hang  her  tears  and  headaches,"  said  he,  beginning  to 
grow  angry.  "  She  can  get  one  up  to  order  any  time, 
and  for  my  part,  I  am  getting  heartily  tired  of  the  sound 
of  aches  and  pains." 

"  Please  don't  talk  so,"  said  Mabel,  pressing  her  hands 
upon  her  aching  head,  while  'Lena  sternly  exclaimed, 
"  Shame  on  you,  John  Livingstone.  I  am  surprised  at 
you,  for  I  did  suppose  you  had  some  little  feeling  left." 

"  Miss  Rivers  can  be  very  eloquent  when  she  chooses, 
but  I  am  happy  to  say  it  is  entirely  lost  on  me,"  said 
John,  leaving  the  room  and  shutting  the  door  with  a  bang, 
which  made  every  one  of  Mabel's  nerves  quberanew. 

"  What  a  perfect  brute,"  said  Carrie,  while  'Lena  and 
Anna  drew  nearer  to  Mabel,  the  one  telling  her  "she 
would  not  care,"  and  the  other  silently  pressing  the  little 
hand  which  ;nstinctively  sought  hers,  as  if  sure  of  finding 
sympathy. 

At  this  moment  Mrs.  Livingstone  came  in,  and  imme 


282  'LENA  RIVERS. 

diately  Carrie  gave  a  detailed  account  of  her  brother' <j 
conduct,  at  the  same  time  referring  her  mother  for  proof 
to  Mabel's  red  eyes  and  swollen  face. 

"I  never  interfere  between  husband  and  wife,"  said 
Mrs.  Livingstone  coolly,  "  but  as  a  friend,  I  will  give  Ma 
bel  a  bit  of  advice.  Without  being  at  all  personal,  I 
would  say  that  a  few  women  have  beauty  enough  to  afford 
to  impair  it  by  eternally  crying,  while  fewer  men  have 
patience  enough  to  bear  with  a  woman  who  is  forever 
whining  and  complaining,  first  of  this  and  then  of  that. 
I  don't  suppose  that  John  is  so  much  worse  than  other 
people,  and  I  think  he  bears  up  wonderfully,  considering 
his  disappointment." 

Here  the  lady  flounced  out  of  the  room,  leaving  the 
girls  to  stare  at  each  other  in  silence,  wondering  what  she 
meant.  Since  her  marriage,  Mabel  had  occupied  the  par 
lor  chamber,  which  connected  with  a  cozy  little  bedroom 
and  dressing-room  adjoining.  These  had  at  the  time  been 
fitted  up  and  furnished  in  a  style  which  Mrs.  Livingstone 
thought  worthy  of  Mabel's  wealth,  but  now  that  she  was 
poor^the  case  was  altered,  and  she  had  long  contemplated 
removing  her  to  more  inferior  quarters.  "  She  wasn't  go 
ing  to  give  her  the  very  best  room  in  the  house.  No,  in 
deed,  she  wasn't — wearing  out  the  carpets,  soiling  the 
furniture,  and  keeping  everything  topsy-turvy." 

She  understood  John  Jr.  well  enough  to  know  that  it 
would  not  do  to  approach  him  on  the  subject,  so  she 
waited,  determining  to  carry  out  her  plans  the  very  first 
time  he  should  be  absent,  thinking  when  it  was  once  done, 
he  would  submit  quietly.  On  hearing  that  he  had  gone  off 
on  a  hunting  excursion,  she  thought,  "  Now  is  my  time," 
and  summoning  to  her  assistance  three  or  four  servants,  she 
removed  evervthing  belonging  to  John  Jr.  and  Mabel,  to 


MARRIED  LIFE.  283 

the  small  and  not' remarkably  convenient  room  which  the 
former  had  occupied  previous  to  his  marriage. 

"  What  are  you  about  ?  "  asked  Anna,  who  chanced  to 
pass  by  and  looked  in. 

"About  my  business,"  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone. 
"  I'm  not  going  to  have  my  best  things  all  worn  out,  and 
if  this  was  once  good  enough  for  John  to  sleep  in,  it  i3 
now." 

"  But  will  Mabel  like  it  ?"  asked  Anna,  a  little  sus 
picious  that  her  sister-in-law's  rights  were  being  infringed. 

"  Nobody  cares  whether  she  is  pleased  or  not,"  said 
Mrs.  Livingstone.  "  If  she  don't  like  it,  all  she  has  to  do 
is  to  go  away." 

"Lasted  jest  about  as  long  as  I  thought  'twould,"  said 
Aunt  Milly,  when  she  heard  what  was  going  on.  "  lie 
and  crab-apple  vinegar  won't  mix,  nohow,  and  if  before 
the  year's  up  old  miss  don't  TV  orry  the  life  out  of  that 
poor  little  sickly  critter,  that  looks  now  like  a  picked 
chicken,  my  name  ain't  Milly  Livingstone." 

The  other  negroes  agreed  with  her.  Constantly  asso 
ciated  with  the  family,  they  saw  things  as  they  were,  and 
while  Mrs.  Livingstone's  conduct  was  universally  con 
demned,  Mabel  was  a  general  favorite.  After  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone  had  left  the  room,  Milly,  with  one  or  two  others, 
stole  up  to  reconnoiter. 

"  Now  I  'clar'  for't,"  said  Milly,  "  if  here  ain't  Marster 
John's  bootjack,  fish-line,  and  box  of  tobacky,  right  out 
in  far  sight,  and  Miss  Mabel  comin'  in  here  to  sleep. 
'Pears  like  some  white  folks  hain't  no  idee  of  what  'longs 
to  good  manners.  Here,  Corind,  put  the  jack  in  thar, 
the  fish-line  thar,  the  backy  thar,  and  heave  that  ar  other 
trash  out  o'door,"  pointing  to  some  geological  specimens 
which  from  time  to  time  John  Jr.  had  gathered,  and  which 
his  mother  had  not  thought  proper  to  molest 


284  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Corinda  obeyed,  and  then  Aunt  Milly,  who  really 
sessed  good  taste,  began  to  make  some  alterations  in  the 
arrangement  of  the  furniture,  and  under  her  supervision 
the  room  soon  began  to  present  a  more  cheerful  and  invi 
ting  aspect. 

"  Git  out  with  yer  old  airthen  candlestick,"  said  she, 
turning  up  her  broad  nose  at  the  said  article,  which  stood 
upon  the  stand.  "  What's  them  tall  frosted  ones  hi  the 
parlor  chamber  for,  if  'tain't  to  use.  Go,  Corind,  and 
fetch  'em." 

But  Corinda  did  not  dare,  and  Aunt  Milly  went  herself, 
taking  the  precaution  to  bring  them  in  the  tongs,  so  that 
in  the  denouement  she  could  stoutly  deny  having  ever 
"  tached  'em,  or  even  had  'em  in  her  hands !  "  (So  much 
for  a  subterfuge,  where  there  is  no  moral  training.) 

When  Mabel  heard  of  the  change,  she  seemed  for  a 
moment  stupefied.  Had  she  been  consulted,  had  Mrs. 
Livingstone  frankly  stated  her  reasons  for  wishing  her  to 
take  another  room,  she  would  have  consented  willingly, 
but  to  be  thus  summarily  removed  without  a  shadow  of 
warning,  hardly  came  up  to  her  ideas  of  justice.  Still, 
there  was  no  help  for  it,  and  that  night  the  bride  of  three 
months  watered  her  lone  pillow  with  tears,  never  once 
closing  her  heavy  eyelids  in  sleep  until  the  dun  morning 
light  came  in  through  the  open  window,  and  the  tread  of 
the  negroes'  feet  was  heard  in  the  yard  below.  Then,  for 
many  hours,  the  weary  girl  slumbered  on,  unconscious  of 
the  ill-natured  remarks  which  her  non-appearance  waa 
eliciting  from  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  said  "  it  was  strange 
what  airs  some  people  would  put  on ;  perhaps  Mistress 
Mabel  fancied  her  breakfast  would  be  sent  to  her  room, 
or  kept  warm  for  her  until  such  time  as  sh »  chose  to  a/>- 
pear,  but  she'd  find  herself  mistaken,  for  the  servants  had 
enough  to  do  without  waiting  upon  her,  and  if  she 


MARRIED  LIFE.  28£ 

couldn't  get  up  to  breakfast,  why,  she  must  wait  until 
dinner  time ! " 

'Lena  and  Milly,  however,  thought  differently.  Softly 
had  the  latter  stolen  up  to  her  cousin's  room,  gazing  pity- 
ingly  upon  the  pale,  worn  face,  whose  grieved,  mournful 
expression  told  of  sorrow  which  had  come  all  too  soon. 

"  Let  her  sleep ;  it  will  do  her  good,"  said  'Lena,  ad 
justing  the  bed-clothes,  and  dropping  the  curtain  so  that 
the  sunlight  should  not  disturb  her,  she  left  the  chamber. 

An  hour  after,  on  entering  the  kitchen,  she  found  Aunt 
Milly  preparing  a  rich  cream  toast,  which,  with  a  cup  of 
fragrant  black  tea,  were  to  be  slily  conveyed  to  Mabel, 
who  was  now  awake. 

"  Reckon  thar  don't  nobody  starve  as  long  as  this  nig 
ger  rules  the  roost,"  said  Milly,  wiping  one  of  the  silver 
tea-spoons  with  a  corner  of  her  apron,  and  then  placing 
it  in  the  cup  destined  for  Mabel,  who,  not  having  seen  her 
breakfast  prepared,  relished  it  highly,  thinking  the  world 
was  not,  after  all,  so  dark  and  dreary,  for  there  were  yet 
a  few  left  who  cared  for  her. 

Her  headache  of  the  day  before  still  remained,  and 
*L?na  suggested  that  she  should  stay  in  her  room,  saying 
that  she  would  herself  see  that  every  necessary  attention 
was  paid  her.  This  she  could  the  more  readily  do,  as 
Mrs.  Livingstone  had  gone  to  Versailles  with  her  husband. 
That  afternoon,  as  Mabel  lay  watching  the  drifting  clouds 
us  they  passed  and  repassed  before  the  window,  her  ear 
suddenly  caught  the  sound  of  horses'  feet.  Xearer  and 
nearer  they  came,  until  with  a  cry  of  delight  she  hid  her 
face  in  the  pillows,  weeping  for  very  joy — for  John  Jr. 
had  come  home !  She  could  not  be  mistaken,  and  if  there 
was  any  lingering  doubt,  it  was  soon  lost  in  certainty,  for 
she  heard  his  voice  in  the  hall  below,.his  footsteps  on  the 
stairs.  Uc  wus  coming,  an  unusual  thing,  to  see  her  first  I 


286  'LENA  RIVERS. 

But  how  did  he  know  she  was  there,  in  his  old  room  ? 
Ele  did  not  know  it ;  he  was  only  coming  to  put  his  rifle 
in  its  accustomed  place,  and  on  seeing  the  chamber  filled 
wit  h  the  various  paraphernalia  of  a  woman's  toilet,  he 
started,  with  the  exclamation,  "What  the  deuce!  I 
reckon  I've  got  into  the  wrong  pew,"  and  was  going 
away,  when  Mabel  called  him  back.  "  Meb,  you  here  ?  " 
said  he.  "  You  in  this  little  tucked  up  hole,  that  I  alway? 
thought  too  small  for  me  and  my  traps !  What  does  it 
mean  ?  " 

Mabel  had  carefully  studied  the  tones  of  her  husband's 
voice,  and  knowing  from  the  one  he  now  assumed  that  he 
was  not  displeased  with  her,  the  sense  of  injustice  done 
her  by  his  mother  burst  out,  and  throwing  her  arms 
around  his  neck,  she  told  him  everything  connected  with 
her  removal,  asking  what  his  mother  meant  by  saying, 
"  she  should  never  get  anything  for  their  board,"  and 
begging  him  "  to  take  her  away  where  they  could  live 
alone  and  be  happy." 

Since  he  had  left  her,  John  Jr.  had  thought  a  great 
deal,  the  result  of  which  was,  that  he  determined  on  re 
turning  home  much  sooner  than  he  at  first  intended,  prom 
ising  himself  to  treat  Mabel  decently,  and  if  possible  win 
back  the  respect  of  'Lena,  which  he  knew  he  had  lost. 
To  his  companions,  who  urged  him  to  remain,  he  replied 
that  "  he  had  left  his  wife  sick,  and  he  could  not  stay 
longer." 

It  cost  him  a  great  effort  to  say  "  my  wife,"  for  neve^ 
before  had  he  so  called  her,  but  he  felt  better  the  mo 
ment  he  had  done  so,  and  bidding  his  young  friends  adieu, 
he  started  for  home  with  the  same  impetuous  speed  which 
usually  characterized  his  riding.  He  had  fully  expected 
to  meet  Mabel  in  the  parlor,  and  was  even  revolving  in 
bis  own  mind  the  prospect  of  kissing  her,  provided  'Lena 


MARRIED  LIFE.  28* 

were  present.  "  That'll  prove  to  her,"  thought  he,  '  that 
I  am  not  the  hardened  wretch  she  thinks  I  am ;  so  I'll  do 
it,  if  Meb  doesn't  happen  to  be  all  bound  up  in  camphor 
and  aromatic  vinegar,  which  I  can't  endure,  anyway." 

Full  of  this  resolution  he  had  hastened  home,  going 
first  to  his  old  room,  where  he  had  come  so  unexpectedly 
upon  Mabel  that  for  a  moment  he  scarcely  knew  what  to 
say.  By  the  time,  however,  that  she  had  finished  her 
story,  his  mind  was  pretty  well  made  up. 

"And  so  it's  mother's  doings,  hey  ?  "  said  he,  violently 
pulling  the  bell-rope,  and  then  walking  up  and  down  the 
room  until  Cerinda  appeared  in  answer  to  his  summons. 

"How  many  blacks  are  there  in  the  kitchen?"  he 
asked. 

"  Si*  or  seven,  besides  Aunt  Polly,"  answered  Corinda. 
'c  Very  well.     Tell  every  man  of  them  to  come  up  here, 
quick." 

Full  of  wonder  Corinda  departed,  carrying  the  intelli 
gence,  and  adding  that  "Marster  John  looked  mighty  black 
m  the  face,  and  she  reckoned  some  on  'em  would  catch  it," 
at  the  same  time,  for  fear  of  what  might  happen,  secretly 
conveying  back  to  Oie  safe  the  piece  of  cake  which,  in  her 
mistress'  absence,  she  had  stolen !  Aunt  Milly's  first 
thought  was  of  the  frosted  candlesticks,  and  by  way  of 
impressing  upon  Corinda  a  sense  of  what  she  might  ex 
pect  if  in  anyway  she  implicated  her,  she  gave  her  a  cuff 
in  advance,  bidding  her  "be  keerful  how  she  blabbed;" 
then  heading  the  sable  group,  she  repaired  to  the  cham 
ber,  where  John  Jr.  was  awaiting  them. 

Advancing  toward  them,  as  they  appeared  in  the  door- 
way,  he  said,  "  Take  hold  here,  every  one  of  you,  and 
move  these  tilings  back  where  they  came  from." 

"Don't,  oh  don't,"    entreated  Mabel,  but   laying   hi* 


238  LENA  RIVERS. 

hand  over  her  mouth,  John  Jr.  bade  her  keep  still,  at  th« 
same  time  ordering  the  negroes  "  to  be  quick." 

At  first  the  younger  portion  of  the  blacks  stood  speech 
less,  but  Aunt  Milly,  comprehending  the  whole  at  once, 
and  feeling  glad  that  her  mistress  had  her  match  in  her 
son,  set  to  work  with  a  right  good  will,  and  \vhen  about 
dusk  Mrs.  Livingstone  came  home,  she  was  astonished  at 
seeing  a  light  in  the  parlor  chamber,  while  occasionally 
she  could  discern  the  outline  of  a  form  moving  before  the 
window.  What  could  it  mean  ?  Perhaps  they  had  com 
pany,  and  springing  from  the  carriage  she  hastened  into 
the  house,  meeting  'Lena  in  the  hall,  and  eagerly  asking 
who  was  in  the  front  chamber. 

"  I  believe,"  said  'Lena,  "  that  my  cousin  is  not  pleased 
with  the  change,  and  has  gone  back  to  the  front  room." 

"  The  impudent  thing !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
ignorant  of  her  son's  return,  and  as  a  matter  of  course  at 
tributing  the  whole  to  Mabel. 

Darting  up  the  stairs,  she  advanced  toward  the  chamber, 
and  pushing  open  the  door,  stood  face  to  face  with  John 
Jr.,  who,  with  hands  crammed  in  his  pockets  and  legs 
crossed,  w.".s  leaning  against  the  mantel,  waiting  and  ready 
for  whatever  might  occur. 

"  John  Livingstone !  "  she  gasped  in  her  surprise. 

"  That's  my  name,"  he  returned,  quietly  enjoying  her 
look  of  amazement. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  she  continued. 

"  Mean  what  I  say,"  was  his  provoking  answer. 

"  What  have  you  been  about  ?  "  was  her  next  ques 
tion,  to  which  he  replied,  "  Your  eyesight  is  not  deficient 
• — you  can  see  for  yourself." 

Gaining  no  satisfaction  from  him,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
now  turned  upon  Mabel,  abusing  her  until  John  Jr. 
sternly  commanded  her  to  desist,  bidding  her  "  confiiia 


MARRIED  LIFE.  289 

her  remarks  to  himself,  and  let  his  wife  alone,  as  she  was 
not  in  the  least  to  blame." 

"  Your  wife ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Livingstone — "  very  affeo 
tionate  you've  gown,  all  at  once.  Perhaps  you've  for 
gotten  that  you  married  her  to  spite  Nellie,  who  you 
then  believed  was  the  bride  of  Mr.  Wilbur,  but  you  sure 
ly  remember  how  you  fainted  when  you  accidentally 
learned  your  mistake." 

A  cry  from  Mabel,  who  fell  back,  fainting,  among  the 
pillows,  prevented  Mrs.  Livingstone  from  any  further  re 
marks,  and  satisfied  with  the  result  of  her  visit,  she 
walked  away,  while  John  Jr.,  springing  to  the  bedside, 
bore  his  young  wife  to  the  open  window,  hoping  the  cool 
night  air  would  revive  her.  But  she  lay  so  pale  and  mo 
tionless  in  his  arms,  her  head  resting  so  heavily  upon  his 
shoulder,  that  with  a  terrible  foreboding  he  laid  her  back 
upon  the  bed,  and  rushing  to  the  door,  shouted  loudly, 
"  Help — somebody — come  quick — Mabel  is  dead,  I  know 
she  is." 

'Lena  heard  the  cry  and  hastened  to  the  rescue,  start 
ing  back  when  she  saw  the  marble  whiteness  of  Mabel's 
face. 

"  I  did'nt  kill  her,  'Lena.  God  knows  I  didn't.  Poor 
little  Meb,"  said  John  Jr.,  quailing  beneath  'Lena's  re 
buking  glance,  and  bending  anxiously  over  the  slight  form 
which  looked  so  much  like  death. 

But  Mabel  was  not  dead.  'Lena  knew  it  by  the  faint 
fluttering  of  her  heart,  and  an  application  of  the  usual 
remedies  sufficed,  at  last,  to  restore  her  to  consciousness. 
With  a  long-drawn  sigh  her  eyes  unclosed,  and  looking 
earnestly  in  'Lena's  face,  she  said,  "Was  it  a  dream, 
'Lena  ?  Tell  me,  was  it  all  a  dream  ?  " — then,  as  she 
observed  her  husband,  she  added,  shudderingly,  "  No,  nc , 
M  19 


290  'LENA   RIVERS. 

not  a  dream.     I  remember  it  all  now.     And  I  wish  I  was 

dead." 

Again  'Lena's  rebuking  glance  went  over  to  John  Jr., 
who,  advancing  nearer  to  Mabel,  gently  laid  his  hand 
upon  her  white  brow,  saying,  softly,  "Poor,  poor  Meb." 

There  was  genuine  pity  in  the  tones  of  his  voice,  and 
while  the  hot  tears  gushed  forth,  the  sick  girl  murmured, 
«  Forgive  me,  John,  I  couldn't  help  it.  I  didn't  know  it, 
and  now,  if  you  say  so,  I'll  go  away,  alone— where  you'll 
never  see  me  again." 

She  comprehended  it  all.  Her  mother-in-law  had  rude 
ly  torn  away  the  veil,  and  she  saw  why  she  was  there- 
knew  why  he  had  sought  her  for  his  wife-understood 
all  his  coldness  and  neglect ;  but  she  had  no  word  of  re 
proach  for  him,  her  husband,  and  from  the  depths  of  her 
crushed  heart  she  forgave  him,  commiserating  him  as  the 
greater  sufferer. 

"  May  be  I  shall  die,"  she  whispered,  "  and  then- 
She  did  not  finish  the  sentence,  neither  was  it  necessary, 
for  John  Jr.  understood  what  she  meant,  and  with  hifl 
conscience  smiting  him  as  it  did,  he  felt  half  inclined  to 
declare,  with  his  usual  impulsiveness,  that  it  should  nevei 
be  ;  but  the  rash  promise  was  not  made,  and  it  was  fa? 
better  that  it  should  not  be 


THE  SHADOW.  29J 

CHAPTER  XXVU. 

THE    SHADOW. 

MABKL'S  nerves  had  received  too  great  a  shock  to  rally 

mmedlatel         d      day  after  day  went  by,  she  still  kep' 

a  .com  notwthstanding  the  very  pointed  hints  of  her 

mother-m  law  that  -  she  was  making  believe  for  the  sake 

of  Apathy."     Why  didn't  she  get  up  and  go  out  doors- 

anybody  would  be  sick  to  be  flat  on  their  b^ck  day  in  and 

day  out;  or  did  she  think  she  was  spiting  her  by  showinrr 

she  could  kecp  the 


This  last  was  undoubtedly  the  grand  secret  of  Mrs 

Livmgstone's  dissatisfaction.     Foiled  in  her  efforts  to  dis- 

adge  them    she  would  not  yield  without  an  attempt  at 

making  Mabel,  at  least,  as  uncomfortable  in  mind  as  pos- 

ble.     Accordingly,  almost  every  day  when  her  son  was 

not  present,  she  conveyed  from  the  room  some  nice  arti- 

furmture,  substituting  in  its  place  one  of  inferior 

quality,  which  was  quite  good  enough,  she  thought,  for 

a  penniless  bride. 

"  Pears  like  ole  miss  goin'  to  make  a  clean  finish  of  her 
time,"  said  Aunt  Milly,  who  watched  her  mistress' 
dauy  depredations.  "Ole  Sam  d'one  got  title  deed  of 
her,  sure  enough.  Ki  !  won't  she  ketch  it  in  t'other 
world,  when  he  done  show  her  his  cloven  foot,  and  won't 
she  holler  for  old  Milly  to  fetch  her  a  drink  of  water  ?  not 
particular  then—  drink  out  of  the  bucket,  gourd-shell  or 
anything;  but  dis  nigger'U  'sign  her  post  in  de  parlor 
a  lore  she'll  ^o." 

"  Why,  Milly,"  said  'Lena,  who  overheard  this   solil- 


292  'LENA  RIVERS. 

oquy,  "  don't  yon  know  it's  wrong  to  indulge  in  such 
wicked  thoughts  ?  " 

"Bless  you,  child,"  returned  the  old  negress,  "she 
'sarves  'em  all  for  treatin'  that  poor,  dear  lamb  so.  I'd 
'nihilate  her  if  I's  Miss  Mabel." 

"  No,  no,  Milly,"  said  Aunt  Polly,  who  was  present. 
"  You  must  heap  coals  of  fire  on  her  head." 

"  Yes,  yes,  that's  it — she  orto  have  'em,"  quickly  re 
sponded  Milly,  thinking  Polly's  method  of  revenge  the 
very  best  in  the  world,  provided  the  coals,  were  "bilin' 
hot,"  and  with  this  reflection  she  started  up  stairs,  with  a 
bowl  of  nice,  warm  gruel  she  had  been  preparing  for  the 
invalid. 

Several  times  each  day  Grandma  Nichols  visited  Ma 
bel's  room,  always  prescribing  some  new  tea  of  herbs, 
whose  healing  qualities  were  wonderful,  having  effected 
cures  in  every  member  of  Nancy  Scovandyke's  family, 
that  lady  herself,  as  a  matter  of  course,  being  first  inclu 
ded.  And  Aunt  Milly,  with  the  faithfulness  character 
istic  of  her  race,  would  seek  out  each  new  herb,  uniting 
with  it  her  own  simple  prayer  that  it  might  have  the  de 
sired  effect.  But  all  in  vain,  for  every  day  Mabel  became 
weaker,  while  her  dark  eyes  grew  larger  and  brighter,  anon 
lighting  up  with  joy  as  she  heard  her  husband's  footsteps 
in  the  hall,  and  again  filling  with  tears  as  she  glanced  tim 
idly  into  Ins  face,  and  thought  of  the  dread  reality. 

"  May  be  I  shall  die,"  was  more  than  once  murmured  in 
her  sleep,  and  John  Jr.,  as  often  as  he  heard  those  words, 
would  press  her  burning  hands,  and  mentally  reply, 
"  Poor  little  Meb." 

And  all  this  time  no  one  thought  to  call  a  physician, 
until  Mr.  Livingstone  himself  at  last  suggested  it.  At  first 
he  had  felt  no  interest  whatever  in  his  daughter-in-law, 
but  with  him  force  of  habit  was-  everything,  and  when 


THE  SHADOW.  293 

she  no  longer  came  among  them,  he  missed  her — missed 
her  languid  steps  upon  the  stairs  and  her  childish  voice  in 
the  parlor.  At  last  it  one  day  occurred  to  him  to  visit  her. 
She  was  sleeping  when  he  entered  the  room,  but  he  could 
see  there  had  been  a  fearful  change  since  last  he  looked 
upon  her,  and  without  a  word  concerning  his  intentions, 
he  walked  to  the  kitchen,  ordering  one  of  his  servants  to 
start  forthwith  for  the  physician,  whose  residence  was  a 
few  miles  distant. 

Mrs.  Livingstone  was  in  the  front  parlor  when  he  re 
turned,  in  company  with  Doctor  Gordon,  and  immediately 
her  avaricious  spirit  asked  who  would  pay  the  bill,  and 
why  was  he  sent  for.  Mabel  did  not  need  him — she  waa 
only  babyish  and  spleeny — and  so  she  told  the  physician, 
who,  however,  did  not  agree  with  her.  He  did  not  say 
that  Mabel  would  die,  but  he  thought  so,  for  his  expe 
rienced  eye  saw  in  her  infallible  signs  of  the  disease  which 
had  stricken  down  both  her  parents,  and  to  which,  from 
her  birth,  she  had  been  a  prey.  Mabel  guessed  as  much 
from  his  manner,  and  when  again  he  visited  her,  she  asked 
him  plainly  what  he  thought. 

She  was  young — a  bride — surrounded  apparently  by 
everything  which  could  make  her  happy,  and  the  physician 
hesitated,  Answering  her  evasively,  until  she  said,  "Do 
not  fear  to  tell  me  truly,  for  I  want  to  die.  Oh,  I  long  to 
die,"  she  continued,  passionately  clasping  her  thin,  white 
hands  together. 

"  That  is  an  unusual  wish  in  one  so  young,"  answered 
the  physician,  "but  to  be  plain  with  you,  Mrs.  Living 
stone,  I  think  consumption  too  deeply  seated  to  admit  of 
your  recovery.  You  may  be  better,  but  never  well.  Your 
disease  is  hereditary,  and  has  been  coming  on  too  long." 

"  It  is  well,"  was  Mabel's  only  answer,  as  she  turned 
wearily  upon  her  side  and  hid  her  face  in  the  pillows. 


294  'LENA  RIVERS. 

For  a  long  time  she  lay  there,  thinking,  weeping,  and 
thinking  again,  of  the  noisome  grave  through  which  she 
must  pass,  and  from  which  she  instinctively  shrank,  it  waa 
so  dark,  so  cold,  and  dreary.  But  Mabel  had  trusted  in 
One  who  she  knew  would  go  with  her  down  into  the  lone 
valley — whose  arm  she  felt  would  uphold  her  as  she 
crossed  the  dark,  rolling  stream  of  death ;  and  as  if  her 
frail  bark  were  already  safely  moored  upon  the  shores  of 
the  eternal  river,  she  looked  back  dreamily  upon  the 
world  she  had  left,  and  as  she  saw  what  she  felt  would 
surely  be,  she  again  murmured  through  her  tears,  "  It  is 
well." 

That  night,  when  John  Jr.  came  up  to  his  room,  he  ap 
peared  somewhat  moody  and  cross,  barely  speaking  to 
Mabel,  and  then  walking  up  and  down  the  room  with  the 
heavy  tread  which  always  indicated  a  storm  within.  He 
had  that  day  been  to  Frankfort,  hearing  that  Nellie  was 
really  coming  home  very  soon — very  possibly  she  was  now 
on  her  way.  Of  course  she  would  visit  Mabel,  when  sli3 
heard  she  was  sick,  and  of  course  he  must  meet  her  fac-i 
to  face,  must  stand  with  her  at  the  bedside  of  his  wife. 
and  that  wife  Mabel.  In  his  heart  he  did  not  accuse  the 
latter  of  feigning  her  illness,  but  he  wished  she  would  get 
well  faster,  so  that  Nellie  need  not  feel  obliged  to  visit 
her.  She  could  at  least  make  an  effort — a  great  deal  De 
pended  upon  that — and  she  had  now  been  confined  to  her 
room  three  or  four  weeks. 

Thus  he  reflected  as  he  walked,  and  at  last  his  thoughts 
formed  themselves  into  words.  Stopping  short  at  the 
foot  of  the  bed,  he  said  abruptly  and  without  looking  her 
in  the  face,  "  How  do  you  feel  to-night  ?  " 

The  stifled  cough  which  Mabel  tried  to  suppress  be- 
aause  it  was  offensive  to  him,  brought  a  scowl  to  his  foro- 


THE  SHADOW.  295 

head,  and  in  imagination  he  anticipated  her  answer.     "  I 
do  not  think  I  am  any  better." 

"And  I  don't  believe  you  try  to  be,"  sprang  to  his  lips, 
but  its  utterance  was  prevented  by  a  glance  at  her  face, 
which  by  the  nickering  lamplight  looked  whiter  than  ever. 

"  Nellie  is  coming  home  in  a  few  weeks,"  he  said  at 
length,  with  his  usual  precipitancy. 

'T  was  the  first  time  Mabel  had  heard  that  name  since 
the  night  when  her  mother-in-law  had  rang  it  in  her  ears, 
and  now  she  started  so  quickly,  that  the  offending  cough 
could  not  be  forced  back,  and  the  coughing  fit  which  fol 
lowed  was  so  violent  that  John  Jr.,  as  he  held  the  bowl 
to  her  quivering  lips,  saw  that  what  she  had  raised  wag 
streaked  with  blood.  But  he  was  unused  to  sickness,  and 
he  gave  it  no  farther  thought,  resuming  the  conversation 
as  soon  as  she  became  quiet. 

"  To  be  plain,  Meb,"  said  he,  "  I  want  you  to  hurry  and 
get  well  before  Nellie  comes — for  if  you  are  sick  she'll  feel 
in  duty  bound  to  visit  you,  and  I'd  rather  face  a  loaded 
cannon  than  her." 

Mabel  was  too  much  exhausted  to  answer  immediately, 
and  she  lay  so  long  with  her  eyes  closed  that  John  Jr., 
growing  impatient,  said,  "  Are  you  asleep,  Meb  ?  " 

"  No,  no,"  said  she,  at  the  same  time  requesting  him  to 
take  the  vacant  chair  by  her  side,  as  she  wished  to  talk 
with  him. 

John  Jr.  hated  to  be  talked  to,  particularly  by  her,  for 
he  felt  that  she  had  much  cause  to  reproach  him ;  but  she 
did  not,  and  as  she  proceeded,  his  heart  melted  toward 
her  in  a  manner  which  he  had  never  thought  possible. 
Very  gently  she  spoke  of  her  approaching  end  as  sure. 

"  You  ask  me  to  make  haste  and  be  well,"  said  she. 
"  but  it  cannot  be.  I  shall  never  go  out  into  the  bright 
sunshine  again,  never  join  you  in  the  parlor  below,  and  be- 


296  'LENA  RIVERS. 

fore  the  cold  winds  of  winter  are  blowing,  I  shall  be  dead. 
I  hope  I  shall  live  until  Nellie  conies,  for  I  must  see  her. 
I  must  make  it  right  between  her  and  you.  I  must  tell 
her  to  forgive  you  for  marrying  me  when  you  loved  only 
her  ;  and  she  will  listen — she  won't  refuse  me,  and  when 
I  am  gone  you'll  be  happy  together." 

John  Jr.  did  not  speak,  but  the  little  hand  which  ner 
vously  moved  toward  him  was  met  more  than  half-way, 
and  thus  strengthened,  Mabel  continued :  "  You  must 
sometimes  think  and  speak  of  Mabel  when  she  is  dead.  I 
do  not  ask  you  to  call  me  wife.  I  do  not  wish  it,  but  you 
must  forget  how  wretched  I  have  made  you,  for  oh,  I  did 
not  mean  it,  and  had  I  sooner  known  what  I  do  now,  I 
would  have  died  ere  I  had  caused  you  one  pang  of 
sorrow." 

Afterward,  when  it  was  to  late,  John  Jr.  would  have 
given  worlds  to  recall  that  moment,  that  he  might  tell  the 
broken-hearted  girl  how  bitterly  he,  too,  repented  of  all 
the  wrong  he  had  done  her  ;  but  he  did  not  say  so  then — 
he  could  only  listen,  while  he  mentally  resolved  that  if 
Mabel  were  indeed  about  to  die,  he  would  make  the  re 
mainder  of  her  short  life  happy,  and  thus  atone,  as  far  as 
possible,  for  the  past.  But  alas  for  John  Jr.,  his  resolu 
tions  were  easily  broken,  and  as  days  and  weeks  went  by, 
and  there  was  no  perceptible  change  in  her,  he  grew 
weary  of  well-doing,  absenting  himself  whole  days  from 
the  sick-room,  and  at  night  rather  unwillingly  resuming 
his  post  as  watcher,  for  Mabel  would  have  no  one  else. 

Since  Mabel's  illness  he  had  occupied  the  little  room 
adjoining  hers,  and  often  when  in  the  still  night  he  lay 
awake,  watching  the  shadow  which  the  lamp  cast  upon 
the  wall,  and  thinking  of  her  for  whom  the  light  was  con- 
stantly  kept  burning,  his  conscience  would  smite  him  ter 
ribly,  and  rising  up,  he  would  steal  softly  to  her  bedside, 


THE  SHADOW.  297 

to  see  if  she  were  sleeping  quietly.  But  anon  he  grew 
weary  of  this,  too  ;  the  shadow  on  the  wall  troubled  him  ; 
it  kept  him  awake ;  it  was  a  continual  reproach,  and  he 
must  be  rid  of  it,  somehow.  He  tried  the  experiment  of 
closing  his  door,  but  Mabel  k&evvthe  moment  he  attempted 
it,  and  he  could  not  refuse  her  when  she  asked  him  to 
leave  it  open. 

'John  Jr.  grew  restless,  fidgety,  and  nervous.  Why 
need  the  lamp  be  kept  burning  ?  He  could  light  it  when 
necessary ;  or  why  need  he  sleep  there,  when  some  one 
else  would  do  as  well  ?  He  thought  of  'Lena— she  was 
just  the  one,  and  the  next  day  he  would  speak  to  her. 
To  his  great  joy  she  consented  to  relieve  him  awhile,  pro 
vided  Mabel  were  willing ;  but  she  was  not,  and  John  Jr. 
was  forced  to  submit.  He  was  not  accustomed  to  restraint, 
and  every  night  matters  grew  worse  and  worse.  The 
shadow  annoyed  him  exceedingly.  If  he  slept,  he  dreamed 
that  it  kept  a  glimmering  watch  over  him,  and  when  he 
awoke,  he,  in  turn,  watched  over  that,  until  the  misty  day. 
light  came  to  dissipate  the  phantom. 

About  this  time  several  families  from  Frankfort  started 
for  New  Orleans,  where  they  were  wont  to  spend  the  win 
ter,  and  irresistibly,  John  Jr.  became  possessed  of  a  de 
sire  to  visit  that  city,  too.  Mabel  would  undoubtedly  live 
until  spring,  now  that  the  trying  part  of  autumn  was  past 
and  there  could  be  no  harm  in  his  leaving  her  for  awhile, 
when  he  so  much  needed  rest.  Accordingly,  'Lena  was 
one  day  surprised  by  his  announcing  his  intended  trip. 

"  But  you  cannot  be  in  earnest,"  she  said  ;  "you  surely 
will  not  leave  Mabel  now." 

"And  why   not?"  he  asked.     "She  doesn't  grow  any 

worse,  and  won't  until  spring,  and  this  close  confinement 

is  absolutely  killing  me  !     Why,  I've   lost  six  pounds  is 

six  months,  and  you'll  see  to  her,  I  know  you  will.    You're 

M* 


298  'LENA    RIVERS. 

a  good  girl,  and  I  like  you,  if  I  did  get  angry  with  you 
weeks  ago  when  I  went  a  hunting." 

'Lena  knew  he  ought  not  to  go,  and  she  tried  hard  to 
convince  him  of  the  fact,  telling  him  how  much  pleasure 
she  had  felt  in  observing  his  improved  manner  toward 
Mabel,  and  that  he  must  not  spoil  it  now. 

"  It's  no  use  talking,"  said  he,  "  I'm  bent  on  going 
somewhere.  I've  tried  to  be  good,  I  know,  but  'the  fact 
is,  I  can't  stay  put.  It  isn't  my  nature.  I  shan't  tell  Meb 
till  just  before  I  start,  for  I  hate  scenes." 

"  And  suppose  she  dies  while  you  are  gone  ?  "  asked 
'Lena. 

John  was  beginning  to  grow  impatient,  for  he  knew  he 
was  wrong,  and  rather  tartly  he  answered,  as  he  left  the 
room,  "Give  her  a  decent  burial,  and  present  the  bill  to 
mother ! " 

The  next  morning,  as  'Lena  sat  alone  with  Mabel,  John 
Jr.  entered,  dressed  and  ready  for  his  journey.  But  he 
found  it  harder  telling  his  wife  than  he  had  anticipated. 
She  looked  unusually  pale  this  morning.  The  sallowness 
of  her  complexion  was  all  gone,  and  on  either  cheek  there 
burned  a  round,  bright  spot.  'Lena  had  just  been  arrang 
ing  her  thick,  glossy  hair,  and  now,  wholly  exhausted,  she 
reclined  upon  her  pillows,  while  her  large  black  eyes,  un 
naturally  bright,  sparkled  with  joy  at  the  sight  of  her  hus 
band.  But  they  quickly  filled  with  tears  when  told  that- 
he  was  going  away,  and  had  come  to  say  good-by. 

"  It's  only  to  New  Orleans  and  back,"  he  said,  as  he 
saw  her  changing  face.  "  I  shan't  be  gone  long,  and  'Lena 
will  take  care  of  you  a  heap  better  than  I  can." 

"  It  isn't  that,"  answered  Mabel,  wiping  her  tears  away. 
"  Don't  go,  John.  Wait  a  little  while.  I'm  sure  it  won't 
bo  long." 

"You   are  nervous,"   said    he,  playfully  tapping  her 


THE  SHADOW.  399 

irhite  cheek.  «  You're  not  going  to  die.  You'll  live  to 
be  grandmother  yet,  who  knows  ?  But  I  must  be  off  or 
lose  the  train.  Good-by,  little  Meb,»  grasping  her  hand, 
"  Good-by,  'Lena.  I'll  bring  you  both  something  nice— 
good-by." 

When  she  saw  that  he  was  going,  Mabel  asked  him  to 
come  back  to  her  bedside  just  for  one  moment.  He  could 
not  refuse,  and  winding  her  long,  emaciated  arms  around 
his  neck,  she  whispered  «  Kiss  me  once  before  you  go.  I 
shall  never  ask  it  again,  and  't  will  make  me  happier  when 
you  are  gone." 

"A  dozen  times,  if  you  like,"  said  he  giving  her  the 
only  husband's  kiss  she  had  ever  received. 

For  a  moment  longer  she  detained  him,  while  she  prayed 
silently  for  heaven's  blessing  on  his  wayward  head,  and 
then  releasing  him,  she  bade  him  go.  Had  he  known  of 
all  that  was  to  follow,  he  would  not  have  left  her,  but  he 
believed  as  he  said,  that  she  would  survive  the  winter, 
and  with  one  more  kiss  upon  her  brow,  where  the  perspi 
ration  was  standing  thickly,  he  departed.  The  window  of 
Mabel's  room  commanded  a  view  of  the  turnpike,  and 
when  the  sound  of  horses'  feet  was  heard  on  the  lawn,  she 
requested 'Lena  to  lead  her  to  the  window,  where  she 
stood  watching  him  until  a  turn  in  the  road  hid  him  from 
her  sight. 

"'T  is  the  last  time,"  said  she,  "and  he  will  never  know 
how  much  this  parting  cost  me." 

That  night,  as  they  were  alone  in  the  gathering  twilight 
Mabel  said,  "If  I  die  before  Nellie  comes  I  want  you  to 
tell  her  how  it  all  happened,  and  that  she  must  forgrvo 
him,  for  he  was  not  to  blame." 

"I  do  not  understand  you,"  said  'Lena,  and  then,  in 
broken  sentences,  Mabel  told  what  her  mother-in-law  had 
said,  and  how  terribly  John  was  deceived.  "  Of  course 


300  'LENA  RIVERS. 

he  couldn't  love  me  after  that,"  said  she,  "  and  it's  right 
that  I  should  die.  He  and  Nellie  were  made  for  each 
other,  and  if  the  inhabitants  of  heaven  are  allowed  to 
watch  over  those  they  loved  on  earth,  I  will  ask  to  be  al 
ways  near  them.  You  will  tell  her,  won't  you?" 

'Lena  promised,  adding  that  she  thought  Mabel  would 
see  Nellie  herself  as  she  was  to  sail  from  Liverpool  the  20th, 
and  a  few  days  proved  her  conjecture  correct.  Entering 
Mabel's  room  one  morning  about  a  week  after  John's  de 
parture,  she  brought  the  glad  news  that  Nellie  had  re 
turned,  and  would  be  with  them  to-morrow. 

The  next  day  Nellie  came,  but  she,  too,  was  changed. 
The  roundness  of  her  form  and  face  was  gone  ;  the  roso 
had  faded  from  her  cheek,  and  her  footsteps  were  no  lon 
ger  light  and  bounding  as  of  old.  She  knew  of  John  Jr.'s 
absence  or  she  would  not  have  come,  for  she  could  not 
meet  him  face  to  face.  She  had  heard,  too,  of  his  treat 
ment  of  Mabel,  and  while  she  felt  indignant  toward  him, 
she  freely  forgave  his  innocent  wife,  who  she  felt  had  been 
more  sinned  against  than  sinning. 

With  a  faint  cry  Mabel  started  from  her  pillow,  and 
burying  her  face  on  Nellie's  neck,  wept  like  a  child.  "  You 
do  not  hate  me,"  she  said  at  last,  "  or  you  would  not  have 
come  so  soon." 

"  Hate  you  ? — no,"  answered  Nellie.  "  I  have  no  causf 
for  hating  yow." 

"  And  you  will  stay  with  me  until  T  die — until  he  comes 
home — and  forgive  him,  too,"  Mabel  continued. 

"  I  can  promise  the  first,  but  the  latter  is  harder,"  said 
Nellie,  her  cheeks  burning  with  anger  as  she  gazed  on  the 
wreck  before  her. 

"But  you  must,  you  will,"  exclaimed  Mabel,  rapidly 
telling  all  she  knew ;  then  falling  back  upon  the  pillow,  she 
added,  "  You'll  forgive  him  now." 


THE  SHADOW.  301 

As  time  passed  on,  Mabel  grew  weaker  and  weaker, 
Ringing  closer  to  Nellie  as  she  felt  the  daik  shadow  of 
death  creeping  gradually  over  her. 

"  If  he'd  only  come,"  she  would  say,  "  and  I  could  placf* 
your  hand  in  his  before  I  died." 

But  it  was  not  to  be.  Day  after  day  John  Jr.  lingered, 
dreading  to  return,  for  he  knew  Nellie  \vas  there,  and  he 
could  not  meet  her,  he  thought,  at  the  bedside  of  Mabel. 
So  he  tarried  until  a  letter  from  'Lena,  which  said  that 
Mabel  would  die,  decided  him,  and  rather  reluctantly  he 
started  homeward.  Meantime  Mabel,  who  knew  nothing 
of  her  loss,  conceived  the  generous  idea  of  willing  all  her 
possessions  to  her  recreant  husband. 

"  Perhaps  he'll  think  more  kindly  of  me,"  said  she  to 
his  father,  to  whom  she  first  communicated  her  plan,  and 
Mr.  Livingstone  felt  that  he  could  not  undeceive  her. 

Accordingly,  a  lawyer  was  summoned  from  Frankfort, 
and  the  will  duly  drawn  up,  signed,  sealed,  and  delivered 
into  the  hands  of  Mr.  Livingstone,  whose  wife,  with  a  mock- 
ing  laugh,  bade  him  "  guard  it  carefully,  it  was  so 
valuable." 

"  It  shows  her  goodness  of  heart,  at  least,"  said  he,  and 
possibly  Mrs.  Livingstone  thought  so,  too,  for  from  that 
time  her  manner  softened  greatly  toward  her  daughter- 
in-law. 

****** 

It  was  midnight  at  Maple  Grove.  On  the  table,  in  ita 
accustomed  place,  the  lamp  was  burning  dimly,  casting 
the  shadow  upon  the  wall,  whilst  over  the  whole  room  a 
darker  shadow  was  brooding.  The  window  was  open, 
and  the  cool  night  air  came  softly  in,  lifting  the  masses  of 
raven  hair  from  off  the  pale  brow  of  the  <3ying.  Tenderly 
above  her  Nellie  and  'Lena  were  beading.  They  had 
svatched  by  her  many  a  night,  and  now  she  asked  them 


302  'LENA  RiVEJIS. 

not  to  leave  her,  not  to  disturb  a  single  one— she  would 
rather  die  alone. 

The  sound  of  horses'  hoofs  rang  out  on  the  still  air,  but 
she  did  not  heed  it.  Nearer  and  nearer  it  came,  over  the 
lawn,  up  the  graveled  walk,  through  the  yard,  and  Nellie's 
face  blanched  to  an  unnatural  whiteness  as  she  thought 
who  that  midnight-rider  was.  Arrived  in  Frankfort  only 
an  hour  before,  he  had  hastened  forward,  impelled  by  a 
something  he  could  not  resist.  From  afar  he  had  caught 
the  glimmering  light,  and  he  felt  he  was  not  too  late.  He 
knew  how  to  enter  the  house,  and  on  through  the  wide 
hall  and  up  the  broad  stair-case  he  came,  until  he  stood  in 
the  chamber,  where  before  him  another  guest  had  en 
tered,  whose  name  was  Death  ! 

Face  to  face  he  stood  with  Nellie  Douglass,  and  be 
tween  them  lay  his  wife— her  rival— the  white  hands 
folded  meekly  upon  her  bosom,  and  the  pale  lips  just  as 
they  had  breathed  a  prayer  for  him. 

"  Mabel !  She  is  dead ! "  was  all  he  uttered,  and  fall 
ing  upon  his  knees,  he  buried  his  face  in  the  pillow,  while 
half  scornfully,  half  pityingly,  Nellie  gazed  upon  him. 

There  was  much  of  bitterness  in  her  heart  toward  him, 
not  for  the  wrong  he  had  done  her,  but  for  the  sake  of 
the  young  girl,  now  passed  forever  away.  'Lena  felt  dif 
ferently.  His  silent  grief  conquered  all  resentment,  and 
going  to  his  side,  she  told  him  how  peacefully  Mabel  had 
died— how  to  the  last  she  had  loved  and  remembered 
him,  praying  that  he  might  be  happy  when  she  was  gone. 
"  Poor  little  Meb,  she  deserved  a  better  fate,"  was  all 
he  said,  as  he  continued  his  kneeling  posture,  until  the 
family  and  servants,  whom  Nellie  had  summoned,  came 
crowding  round,  the  cries  of  the  latter  grating  on  the  ear, 
and  seeming  sadly  out  of  place  for  her  whose  short  life 


THE  SHADOW.  303 

had  been  so  dreary,  and  who  had  welcomed  death  as  a  re 
lease  from  all  her  pain. 

It  was  Mrs.  Livingstone's  wish  that  Mabel  should  bo 
arrayed  in  her  bridal  robes,  but  with  a  shudder  at  the  idle 
mockery,  John   Jr.  answered,    "No;"    and   in  a  plain 
white  muslin,  her  shining  hair  arrayed  as  she  was  wont  to 
wear  it,  they  placed  her  in  her  coffin,  and  on  a  sunny  slope 
where  the  golden  sunlight  and  the  pale  moonbeams  latest 
ell,  and  where  in  spring  the  bright  green  grass  and  sweet 
wild  flowers  are  earliest  seen,  they  laid  her  down  to  sleep. 
That  night,  when  all  around  was  still,  John  Jr.  lay  mu 
sing  sadly  of  the  past.     His  affection  for  Mabel  had  been 
slight  and  variable,  but  now  that  she  was  gone,  he  missed 
her.     The  large,  easy  chair,  with  its  cushions  and  pillows, 
was  empty,  and  as  he  thought  of  the  pale,  dark  face  and 
aching  head  he  had  so  often  seen  reclining  there,  and 
whicli  he  would  never  see  again,  he  groaned  in  bitterness 
of  spirit,  for  well  he  knew  that  he  had  helped  to  break 
the  heart  now  lying  cold  and  still  beneath  the  coffin-lid. 
There  was  no  shadow  on  the  wall,  for  the  lamp  had  gone 
put  with  the  young  life  for  whom  it  had  been  kept  burn- 
ing,  but  many  a  shadow  lay  dark  and  heavy  across  his 
heart. 

With  the  sun-setting  a  driving  rain  had  come  on,  and 
as  the  November  wind  went  howling  past  the  window, 
and  the  large  drops  beat  against  the  casement,  he  thought 
of  the  lonesome  little  grave  on  which  that  rain  was  fall- 
ing  ;  and  shuddering,  he  hid  his  face  in  the  pillows,  asking 
to  be  forgiven,  for  he  knew  that  all  too  soon  that  grave 
was  made,  and  he  had  helped  to  make  it.  At  last,  long 
after  the  clock  had  told  the  hour  of  midnight,  he  arose, 
and  lighting  the  lamp  which  many  a  weary  night  had 
burned  for  her,  he  placed  it  where  the  shadow  would  fall 
jpon  the  wall  as  it  had  done  of  old.  It  was  no  longe:  a 


B04  '  'LENA  RIVERS. 

phantom  to  annoy  him,  and  soothed  by  its  presence,  ha 
fell  asleep,  dreaming  that  Mabel  had  come  back  to  bring 
him  her  forgiveness,  but  when  he  essayed  to  touch  her, 
she  vanished  from  his  sight,  and  there  was  nothing  left 
save  that  shadow  on  the  walL 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

MRS.  GRAHAM'S  RETURN. 

ME.  AND  IVLis.  GRAHAM  had  returned  to  Woodlawn, 
the  former  remaining  but  a  day  and  night,  and  then,  with 
out  once  seeing  'Lena,  departing  for  Europe,  where  busi 
ness,  either  fancied  or  real,  called  him.  Often,  when  lying 
weary  and  sick  in  Havana,  had  he  resolved  on  revealing 
to  his  wife  the  secret  which  he  felt  was  wearing  his  life 
away,  but  the  cowardice  of  his  nature  seemed  increased 
by  physical  weakness,  and  from  time  to  time  was  the 
disclosure  postponed,  while  the  chain  of  evidence  was 
fearfully  lengthening  around  poor  'Lena,  to  whom  Mrs. 
Graham  had  transferred  the  entire  weight  of  her  dis 
pleasure. 

Loving  her  husband  as  well  as  such  as  she  could  love, 
she  was  ever  ready  to  forgive  when  ^she  saw  any  indica 
tions  of  reform  on  his  part,  and  as  during  all  their  jour 
ney  he  had  never  once  given  her  cause  for  ofiense,  she 
began  to  attribute  his  former  delinquencies  wholly  to  'Le 
na  ;  and  when  he  proposed  a  tour  to  Europe  she  readily 
sanctioned  it,  hoping  that  time  and  absence  would  removo 
from  his  mind  all  thoughts  of  the  beautiful  girl,  who  she 
thought  was  her  rival.  Still,  though  she  would  not  con- 


MRS.  GRAHAM'S  RETURN.  305 

fess  it,  in  her  heart  she  did  not  believe  'Lena  guilty,  ex. 
cept  so  far  as  a  desire  to  attract  Mr.  Graham's  attention 
would  make  her  so. 

For  'this  belief  she  had  a  good  and  potent  reason.  The 
daguerreotype  which  had  caused  so  much  trouble  was 
still  in  her  possession,  guarded  carefully  from  her  husband, 
who  never  suspecting  the  truth,  supposed  he  had  lost  it. 
Frequently  had  Mrs.  Graham  examined  the  picture,  each 
tune  discovering  some  point  of  difference  between  it  and 
its  supposed  original.  Still  she  never  for  a  moment 
doubted  that  it  was  'Lena,  until  an  event  occurred  which 
convinced  her  of  the  contrary,  leaving  her,  meantime, 
more  mystified  than  ever. 

On  their  way  home  from  Havana,  Mr.  Graham  had  pro 
posed  stopping  a  day  in  Cincinnati,  taking  rooms  at  the 
Burnet  House,  where  the  first  individual  whom  they  saw 
at  the  table  was  our  old  acquaintance,  Joel  Slocum.  Not 
finding  his  business  as  profitable  in  Lexington  as  he  could 
wish,  he  had  recently  removed  to  Cincinnati.  Here  his 
aspiring  mind  had  prompted  him  to  board  at  the  Burnet 
House,  until  he'd  seen  the  "  Ohio  elephant,"  when  he  in- 
tended  retiring  to  one  of  the  cheaper  boarding-houses. 
The  moment  he  saw  Mr.  Graham,  a  grin  of  recognition 
became  visible  on  his  face,  bringing  to  view  a  row  of  very 
long  and  very  yellow  teeth,  apparently  unacquainted  with 
the  use  of  either  water  or  brush. 

"  Who  is  that  loafer  who  seems  to  know  you  ?  "  asked 
Mrs.  Graham,  directing  her  husband's  attention  toward 
Joel. 

Mr.  Graham  replied  that  "  he  hacl  once  seen  him  in 
Lexington,  and  that  he  took  daguerreotypes." 

The  moment  dinner  was  over,  Joel  came  forward,  going 
through  with  one  of  his  wonderful  bows,  and  exclaiming, 
with  his  peculiar  nasal  twang,  "  Now  you  don't  say  this 

20 


SuG  'LENA  RIVERS. 

is  you.  And  this  is  your  old  woman,  I  s'pose.  Miss  Gra 
ham,  how-dy-du  ?  Darned  if  you  don't  look  like  Aunt 
Nancy,  only  she's  lean  and  you  are  squatty.  S'posin'  you 
give  me  a  call  and  get  your  picters  taken.  I  didn't  gel 
an  all-killin'  sight  of  practice  in  Lexington,  for  the  plaguy 
green-horns  didn't  know  enough  to  patternize  me,  and 
'taint  a  tarnation  sight  better  here  ;  but  you,"  turning  to 
Mr.  Graham,  "  employed  me  once,  and  pretended  to  be 
suited." 

Mr.  Graham  turned  scarlet,  and  saying  something  in  an 
undertone  to  Joel,  gave  his  wife  his  arm,  leading  her  to 
their  room,  where  he  made  an  excuse  for  leaving  her 
awhile.  Looking  from  the  window  a  moment  after,  Mrs. 
Graham  saw  him  walking  down  the  street  in  close  con 
versation  with  Joel,  who,  by  the  way  of  showing  his  im 
portance,  lifted  his  white  beaver  to  almost  every  man  he 
met.  Instantly  her  curiosity  was  roused,  and  when  her 
husband  returned,  every  motion  of  his  was  narrowly 
watched,  the  espionage  resulting  in  the  conviction  that 
there  was  something  in  his  possession  which  he  did  not 
wish  her  to  see.  Once,  when  she  came  unexpectedly  upon 
him,  he  hastily  thrust  something  into  his  pocket,  appear 
ing  so  much  confused  that  she  resolved  to  ferret  out  the 
secret. 

Accordingly,  that  night,  when  assured  by  his  heavy 
breathing  that  he  was  asleep,  she  crept  softly  from  his 
side,  and  rummaging  his  pockets,  found  a  daguerreotype, 
which  by  the  full  moonlight  she  saw  was  a  fac-simile  of 
the  one  she  had  in  her  possession.  The  arrangement  of 
the  hair — everything — was  the  same,  and  utterly  con 
founded,  she  stood  gazing  first  at  one  and  then  at  the  oth 
er,  wondering  what  it  meant.  Could  'Lena  be  in  the 
ity?  She  thought  not,  and  even  if  she  were,  the  last 
daguerreotype  was  not  so  much  like  her,  she  fancied,  as 


MRS.  GRAHAM'S  RETURN.  307 

the  first.  At  all  events,  she  did  not  dare  secrete  it  as  she 
had  done  its  companion,  and  stealthily  returning  it  to  its 
place,  she  crept  back  to  bed. 

The  next  night  they  reached  Woodlawn,  where  they 
learned  that  Mabel  was  buried  that  day.  Of  course  'Lena 
could  not  have  been  absent  from  home.  Mrs.  Graham 
felt  convinced  of  that,  and  gradually  the  conviction  came 
upon  her  that  another  than  'Lena  was  the  original  of  the 
daguerreotypes.  And  yet  she  was  not  generous  enough 
to  tell  Durward  so.  She  knew  he  was  deceived— she 
wished  him  to  remain  so— and  to  effect  it,  she  refrained 
from  seeking  an  explanation  from  her  husband,  fearing  lest 
'Lena  should  be  proved  innocent.  Her  husband  knew 
there  was  a  misunderstanding  between  Durward  and  'Le 
na,  and  if  she  were  to  ask  him  about  the  pictures,  he 
would,  she  thought,  at  once  suspect  the  cause  of  that 
misunderstanding,  and  as  a  matter  of  course,  exonerate 
'Lena  from  all  blame.  The  consequence  of  this  she  fore 
saw,  and  therefore  she  resolved  upon  keeping  her  own 
counsel,  satisfied  if  in  the  end  she  prevented  Durward 
from  making  'Lena  his  wife. 

To  effect  this,  she  endeavored,  during  the  winter,  to 
keep  the  matter  almost  constantly  before  Durward's  mind, 
frequently  referring  to  'Lena's  agitation  when  she  first 
learned  that  Mr.  Graham  had  started  for  Europe.  She 
had  called  with  her  son  at  Maple  Grove  on  the  very  day 
of  her  husband's  departure.  'Lena  had  not  met  the  lady 
before,  since  that  night  in  Frankfort,  and  now,  with  the 
utmost  hauteur,  she  returned  her  nod,  and  then,  too  proud 
to  leave  the  room,  resumed  her  seat  near  the  window, 
directly  opposite  the  divan  on  which  Durward  was  seated 
with  Carrie. 

She  did  not  know  before  of  Mrs.  Graham's  return,  and 
when  her  aunt  casuaUy  asked,  "Did  your  husband  come 


308  'LENA  RIVERS. 

back  with  you  ?  "  she  involuntarily  held  her  breath  for 
the  answer,  which,  when  it  came,  sent  the  blood  in  tor 
rents  to  her  face  and  neck,  while  her  eyes  sparkled  with 
joy.  She  should  see  him — he  would  explain  everything 
• — and  she  should  be  guiltless  in  Durward's  sight.  This 
was  the  cause  of  her  joy,  which  was  quickly  turned  into 
sorrow  by  Mrs.  Graham's  adding,  "  But  he  started  this 
morning  for  Europe,  where  he  will  remain  three  months, 
and  perhaps  longer,  just  according  to  his  business." 

The  bright  flush  died  away,  and  was  succeeded  by  pale 
ness,  which  did  not  escape  the  observation  of  either 
mother  or  son,  the  latter  of  whom  had  watched  her  from 
the  first,  noting  each  change,  and  interpreting  it  accord 
ing  to  his  fears. 

"  'Lena,  'Lena,  how  have  I  been  deceived ! "  was  hia 
mental  cry  as  she  precipitately  left  the  room,  saying  to  her 
aunt,  who  asked  what  was  the  matter,  that  she  was  faint 
and  dizzy.  Death  had  been  but  yesterday  within  their 
walls,  and  as  if  softened  by  its  presence,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
actually  spoke  kindly  of  her  niece,  saying,  that  "  con 
stant  watching  with  poor,  dear  Mabel  had  impaired  her 
health." 

"  Perhaps  there  are  other  causes  which  may  affect  her," 
returned  Mrs.  Graham,  with  a  meaning  look,  which, 
though  lost  on  Mrs.  Livingstone,  was  noticed  by  Dur- 
ward,  who  soon  proposed  leaving. 

On  their  way  home,  his  mother  asked  if  he  observed 
'Lena  when  Mr.  Graham  was  mentioned. 

Without  saying  that  he  did,  Durward  replied,  "  I  no 
ticed  your  remark  to  Mrs.  Livingstone,  and  was  sorry  for 
it,  for  I  do  not  wish  you  to  say  a  word  which  will  throw 
the  least  shade  of  suspicion  upon  'Lena.  Her  reputation 
as  yet  is  good,  and  you  must  not  be  the  first  to  say  aught 
against  it." 


ANNA  AND  CAPTAIN  ATIIERTON.  309 

"I  won't,  I  won't,"  answered  Mrs.  Graham,  anxious 
to  conciliate  her  son,  but  she  found  it  a  harder  matter  to 
refrain  than  she  had  first  supposed. 

'Lena  was  to  her  a  constant  eye-sore,  and  nothing  but 
the  presence  of  Durward  prevented  h«r  from  occasionally 
giving  vent  in  public  to  expressions  which  would  have 
operated  unfavorably  against  the  young  girl,  and  when  at 
last  circumstances  occurred  which  gave  her,  as  she 
thought,  liberty  to  free  her  mind,  she  was  only  too  wil 
ling  to  do  so.  Of  those  circumstances,  in  which  others 
besides  'Lena  were  concerned,  we  will  speak  in  another 
chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

A.NNA     AND     CAPTAIN     ATHEBTON. 

MALCOLM  EVERETT'S  engagement  with  General  Fon 
taine  had  expired,  and  as  was  his  original  intention,  he 
started  for  New  York,  first  seeking  an  interview  with 
Mr.  and  Mrs.  Livingstone,  of  whom  he  asked  their  daugh 
ter  Anna  in  marriage,  at  the  same  tune  announcing  the 
startling  fact  that  they  had  been  engaged  for  more  than 
a  year.  "  I  do  not  ask  you  for  her  now,"  said  he,  "  for  I 
am  not  in  a  situation  to  support  her  as  I  would  wish  to, 
but  that  time  will  come  ere  long,  I  trust,  and  I  can  assure 
you  that  her  happiness  shall  be  the  first  object  of  my 
life." 

There  was  no  cringing  on  the  part  of  Malcolm  Everett. 
He  was  unused  to  that,  and  as  an  equal  meets  an  equal, 
he  met  them,  made  known  his  request,  and  then  hi  silence 


S10  'LENA  RIVERS. 

awaited  their  answer.  Had  Mrs.  Livingstone  been  less 
indignant,  there  would  undoubtedly  have  ensued  a  clam 
orous  call  for  hartshorn  and  vinaigrette,  but  as  it  was,  she 
started  up,  and  confronting  the  young  man,  she  exclaimed, 
"  How  dare  you  aik  such  a  thing  ?  My  daughter  marry 

you  !  " 

"  And  why  not,  madam  ?  "  he  answered,  coolly,  while 
Mrs.  Livingstone  continued  :  "  You,  a  low-born  Yankee, 
who  have  been,  as  it  were,  an  hireling.  You  presume  to 
ask  for  my  daughter !  " 

"  I  do,"  he  answered  calmly,  with  a  quiet  smile,  ten 
fold  more  tantalizing  than  harsh  words  would  have  been, 
"  I  do.  Can  I  have  her  with  your  consent  ?  " 

"  Never,  so  long  as  I  live.  I'd  sooner  see  her  dead 
than  wedded  to  vulgar  poverty." 

"  That  is  your  answer.  Very  well,"  said  Malcolm,  bow 
ing  stiffly.  "  And  now  I  will  hear  yours,"  turning  to  Mr. 
Livingstone,  who  replied,  that  "he  would  leave  the  mat 
ter  entirely  with  his  wife — it  was  nothing  to  him— he  had 
nothing  personal  against  Mr.  Everett— he  rather  liked 
him  than  otherwise,  but  he  hardly  thought  Anna  suited 
to  him,  she  had  been  brought  up  so  differently ; "  and 
thus  evasively  answering,  he  walked  away. 

"  Cowardly  fool !  "  muttered  Mrs.  Livingstone,  as  the 
door  closed  upon  him.  "  If  I  pretended  to  be  a  man,  I'd 
be  one;"  then  turning  to  Malcolm,  she  said,  "Is  there 
anything  further  you  wish  to  say?  " 

"  Nothing,"  he  replied.  "  I  have  honorably  asked  you 
for  your  daughter.  You  have  refused  her,  and  must  abide 
the  consequence." 

"  And  pray  what  may  that  be  ?  "  she  asked,  and  ho 
answered :  "  She  will  soon  be  of  an  age  to  act  for  herself, 
and  though  I  would  far  rather  take  her  with  your  con 


ANNA  AND  CAPTAIN  ATUERTON.  311 

•ent,  I  shall  not  then  hesitate  to  take  her  without,  if  you 
still  persist  in  opposing  her." 

"  There  is  the  door,"  said  Mrs.  Livingstone  rising. 

"  I  see  it,  madam,"  answered  Malcolm,  without  deign 
ing  to  move. 

"Oblige  me  by  passing  out,"  continued  Mrs.  Living, 
stone.  "  Insolent  creature,  to  stand  here  threatening  to 
elope  with  my  daughter,  who  has  been  destined  for  another 
since  her  infancy." 

"  But  she  shall  never  become  the  bride  of  that  old  man," 
answered  Malcolm.  "  I  know  your  schemes.  I've  seen 
them  all  along,  and  I  will  frustrate  them,  too." 

"  You  cannot,"  fiercely  answered  Mrs.  Livingstone. 
"  It  shall  be  ere  another  year  comes  round,  and  when  you 
hear  that  it  is  so,  know  that  you  hastened  it  forward ; " 
and  the  indignant  lady,  finding  that  her  opponent  was  not 
inclined  to  move,  left  the  room  herself,  going  in  quest  of 
Anna,  whom  she  determined  to  watch  for  fear  of  what 
might  happen. 

But  Anna  was  nowhere  to  be  found,  and  in  a  paroxysm 
of  rage  she  alarmed  the  household,  instituting  a  strict 
search,  which  resulted  in  the  discovery  of  Anna  beneath 
the  same  sycamore  where  Malcolm  had  first  breathed  his 
vows,  and  whither  she  had  repaired  to  await  the  decision 
of  her  parents. 

"  I  expected  as  much,"  said  she,  when  told  of  the  re 
sult,  "but  it  matters  not.  I  am  yours,  and  I'll  never 
marry  another." 

The  approach  of  the  servants  prevented  any  further  con- 
versation,  and  with  a  hurried  adieu  they  parted.  A  few 
days  afterward,  as  Mrs.  Livingstone,  sat  in  her  large,  easy 
cnair  before  the  glowing  grate,  Captain  Atherton  was  an- 
nounced,  and  shown  at  once  into  her  room.  To  do  Mrs* 
Livingstone  justice,  we  must  say  that  she  had  long  deba. 


312  'LENA  RIVERS. 

ted  the  propriety  of  giving  Anna,  in  all  the  freshness  of 
her  girlhood,  to  a  man  old  as  her  father,  but  any  hesi 
tancy  she  had  heretofore  felt,  had  now  vanished.  The 
crisis  had  come,  and  when  the  captain,  as  he  had  two  or 
three  times  before  done,  broached  the  subject,  urging  her 
to  a  decision,  she  replied  that  she  was  willing,  provided 
Anna's  consent  could  be  gained. 

"  Pho !  that's  easy  enough,"  said  the  captain,  compla 
cently  rubbing  together  his  fat  hands  and  smoothing  his 
colored  whiskers — "  Bring  her  in  here,  and  I'll  coax  her 
"in  five  minutes." 

Anna  was  sitting  with  her  grandmother  and  'Lena, 
when  word  came  that  her  mother  wished  to  see  her,  the 
servant  adding,  with  a  titter,  that  "  Mas'r  Atherton  thar 
too." 

Instinctively  she  knew  why  she  was  sent  for,  and  turn 
ing  white  as  marble,  she  begged  her  cousin  to  go  with 
her.  But  'Lena  refused,  soothing  the  agitated  girl,  and 
begging  her  to  be  calm.  "  You've  only  to  be  decided," 
said  she,  "  and  it  will  soon  be  over.  Captain  Atherton,  I 
am  sure,  will  not  insist  when  he  sees  how  repugnant  to 
your  feelings  it  is." 

But  Anna  knew  her  own  weakness — she  could  never 
say,  in  her  mother's  presence,  what  she  felt — and  trembling 
like  an  aspen,  she  descended  the  stairs,  meeting  in  the  low 
er  hall  her  brother,  who  asked  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Oh,  John,  John,"  she  cried,  "  Captain  Atherton  is  in 
there  with  mother,  and  they  have  sent  for  me.  What 
shall  I  do  ?  " 

"  Be  a  woman,"  answered  John  Jr.  "  Tell  him  no  in 
good  broad  English,  and  if  the  old  fellow  insists,  I'll  blow 
his  brains  out ! " 

But  the  captain  did  not  insist.  He  was  too  cunning 
for  that,  and  when,  with  a  burst  of  tears,  Anna  told  him 


ANNA  AXD  CAPTAIN  ATIIERTON.  313 

she  could  not  be  his  wife  because  she  loved  another,  he 
said,  good-humoredly,  «  Well,  well,  never  mind  spoiling 
those  pretty  blue  eyes.  I'm  not  such  an  old  savage  al 
you  think  me.  So  we'll  compromise  the  matter  this  way. 
If  you  really  love  Malcolm,  why,  marry  him,  and  on  your 
bridal  day  I'll  make  you  a  present  of  a  nice  little  place  I 
have  in  Frankfort ;  but  if,  on  the  other  hand,  Malcolm 
proves  untrue,  you  must  promise  to  have  me.  Come, 
that's  a  fair  bargain.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

"  Malcolm  will  never  prove  untrue,"  answered  Anna. 
Of  course  not,"  returned  the  captain.     "  So  you  are  safe 
in  promising." 

"  But  what  good  will  it  do  you?"  queried  Anna. 
•'  No  good,  in  particular,"  said  the  captain.     "  It's  only 
a  whim  of  mine,  to  which  I  thought  you  might  perhaps 
agree,  in  consideration  of  my  offer." 

"  I  do — I  will,"  said  Anna,  thinking  the  captain  not  so 
bad,  after  all. 

"There's  mischief  somewhere,  and  I  advise  you  to 
watch,"  said  John  Jr.,  when  he  learned  from  Anna  the 
result  of  the  interview. 

But  week  after  week  glided  by.  Mrs.  Livingstone's 
persecutions  ceased,  and  she  sometimes  herself  handed  to 
Anna  Malcolm's  letters,  which  came  regularly,  and  when 
about  the  first  of  March  Captain  Atherton  himself  went 
off  to  Washington,  Anna  gave  her  fears  to  the  wind,  and 
.all  the  day  long  went  singing  about  the  house,  unmindful 
of  the  snare  laid  for  her  unsuspecting  footsteps.  At  length 
Malcolm's  letters  suddenly  ceased,  and  though  Anna  wrote 
again  and  again,  there  came  no  answer.  Old  Caesar,  who 
always  carried  and  brought  the  mail  for  Maple  Grove, 
was  questioned,  but  he  declared  he  "  done  got  none  from 
Mas'r  Everett,"  and  suspicion  in  that  quarter  was  lulled. 
Unfortunately  for  Anna,  both  her  father  and  John  Jr. 


314  'LEX  A    RIVERS. 

were  now  away,  and  slie  had  no  counselor  save  'Lena,  who 
once,  on  her  own  responsibility,  wrote  to  Malcolm,  but  with 
a  like  success,  and  Anna's  heart  grew  weary  with  hope 
deferred.  Smilingly  Mrs.  Livingstone  looked  on,  one  mo 
ment  laughing  at  Anna  for  what  she  termed  love-sickness, 
and  the  next  advising  her  to  be  a  woman,  and  marry  Cap 
tain  Atherton.  "  He  was  not  very  old — only  forty-three 
— and  it  was  better  to  be  an  old  man's  darling  than  a 
young  man's  slave  1 " 

Thus  the  days  wore  on,  until  one  evening  just  as  the 
family  were  sitting  down  to  tea  they  were  surprised  by  a 
a  call  from  the  captain,  who  had  returned  that  afternoon, 
and  who,  with  the  freedom  of  an  old  friend,  unceremoni 
ously  entered  the  supper-room,  appropriating  to  himself 
the  extra  plate  which  Mrs.  Livingstone  always  had  upon 
the  table.  Simultaneously  with  him  came  Ciesar,  who, 
having  been  to  the  post-office,  had  just  returned,  bring 
ing,  besides  other  things,  a  paper  for  Carrie,  from  her 
old  admirer,  Tom  Lakin,  who  lived  in  Rockford,  at  which 
place  the  paper  was  printed.  Several  times  had  Tom  re 
membered  Carrie  in  this  way,  and  now  carelessly  glancing 
at  the  first  page,  she  threw  it  upon  the  floor,  whence  it 
was  taken  by  Anna,  Avho  examined  it  more  minutely, 
glancing,  as  a  matter  of  course,  to  the  marriage  notices. 
3  Meantime  the  captain,  who  was  sitting  by  'Lena,  casu 
ally  remarked,  "  Oh,  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  I  saw  Mr. 
Everett  in  Washington." 

"  Mr.  Everett— Malcolm  Everett  ?  "  said  'Lena,  quickly. 
"  Yes,  Malcolm  Everett,"  answered  the  captain.     "  Ho 
is  there  spending  the  honey-moon  with  his  bride !  " 

"Lena's  exclamation  of  astonishment  was  prevented 
by  a  shriek  from  Anna,  who  had  that  moment  read  the 
announcement  of  Mr.  Everett's  marriage,  which  was  the 
first  iii  the  list.  It  was  Malcolm  H.  Everett— there  could 


ANNA  AND  CAPTAIN  AT1IERTON.  31ft 

be  no  mistake— and  when  'Lena  reached  htr  cousin's 
side,  she  found  that  she  had  fainted.  All  was  now  in 
confusion,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  Captain  took  his 
leave,  having  first  managed  to  speak  a  few  words  in  pii. 
vate  with  Mrs.  Livingstone. 

"  Fortune  favors  us,"  was  her  reply,  as  she  went  back 
to  her  daughter,  whose  long,  death-like  swoon  almost 
wrung  from  her  the  secret. 

But  Anna  revived,  and  with  the  first  indication  of  re 
turning  consciousness,  the  cold,  hard  woman  stifled  all 
her  better  feelings,  and  then  tried  to  think  she  was  actino- 
only  for  the  good  of  her  child.     For  a  long  time  Anna 
appeared  to  be  in  a  kind  of  benumbed  torpor,  requesting 
to  be  left  alone,  and  shuddering  if  Mr.  Everett's  name 
were  mentioned  in  her  presence.     It  was  in  vain   that 
'Lena  strove  to  comfort  her,  telling  her  there  might  be 
some  mistake.     Anna  refused  to  listen,  angrily  biddino- 
'Lena  desist,  and  saying  frequently  that  she  cared  but 
little  what  became  of  herself  now.     A  species  of  reck- 
sssness  seemed  to  have  taken  possession  of  her,  and  when 
her  mother  one  day  carelessly  remarked  that  possibly 
Captain  Atherton  would  claim  the  fulfillment  of  her  prom 
ise,  she  answered,  in  the  cold,  indifferent  tone  which  now 
marked  her  manner  of  speaking,  «  Let  him.     I  am  ready 
and  willing  for  the  sacrifice." 

4  Are  you  in  earnest  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone,  eagerly 
'In   earnest?     Yes— try.  me  and   see,"   was  Anna's 
brief  answer,  which  somewhat  puzzled  her  mother,  who 
would  in  reality  have  preferred  opposition  to  this  unnat 
ural  passiveness. 

But  anything  to  gain  her  purpose,  she  thought,  and 
drawing  Anna  closely  to  her  side,  she  very  gently  and 
affectionately  told  her  how  happy  it  would  make  her 
could  she  see  her  the  wife  of  Captain  Atherton,  who  had 


016  'LENA  RIVERS. 

loved  and  waited  for  her  so  long,  and  who  would  leave 
no  wish,  however  slight,  ungratified.  And  Anna,  with 
no  shadow  of  emotion  on  her  calm,  white  face,  consented 
to  all  that  her  mother  asked,  and  when  next  the  captain 
came,  she  laid  her  feverish  hand  in  his,  and  with  a  strange, 
wild  light  beaming  from  her  dark  blue  eyes,  promised  to 
share  his  fortunes  as  his  wife. 

"  'Twill  be  winter  and  spring,"  said  she,  with  a  bitter, 
mocking  laugh,  "  'Twill  be  winter  and  spring,  but  it  mat 
ters  not." 

Many  years  before,  when  a  boy  of  eighteen,  Captain 
Atherton  had  loved,  or  fancied  he  loved,  a  young  girl, 
whose  very  name  afterward  became  hateful  to  him,  and 
now,  as  he  thought  of  Anna's  affection  for  Malcolm,  he 
likened  it  to  his  own  boyish  fancy,  believing  she  would 
soon  get  over  it,  and  thank  him  for  what  he  had  done. 

That  night  Anna  saw  the  moon  and  stars  go  down, 
bending  far  out  from  her  window,  that  the  damp  air 
might  cool  her  burning  brow,  and  when  the  morning  sun 
came  up  the  eastern  horizon,  its  first  beams  fell  on  the 
golden  curls  which  streamed  across  the  window-sill,  her 
only  pillow  the  livelong  night.  On  'Lena's  mind  a  terri 
ble  conviction  was  fastening  itself— Anna  was  crazed ! 
She  saw  it  in  the  wildness  of  her  eye,  in  the  tones  of  her 
voice,  and  more  than  all,  in  the  readiness  with  which 
she  yielded  herself  to  her  mother's  schemes.  "But  it 
shall  not  be,"  she  thought ;  "  I  will  save  her,"  and  then 
she  knelt  before  her  aunt,  imploring  her  to  spare  her 
daughter — not  to  sacrifice  her  on  the  altar  of  mammon. 

But  Mrs.  Livingstone  turned  angrily  away,  telling  her 
to  mind  her  own  affairs.  Then  'Lena  sought  her  cousin, 
and  winding  her  arms  around  her  neck,  besought  of  her 
to  resist — to  burst  the  chain  which  bound  her,  and  be 
tree.  But  with  a  shake  of  her  head,  Anna  bade  her  go 


AXD  CAPTAIN  ATIIERTON.  315 

away.  "Leave  me,  'Lena  Rivers,"  she  said,  "leave  me 
to  work  out  my  destiny.  It  is  decreed  that  I  shall  be  his 
wife,  and  I  may  not  struggle  against  it.  Each  night  I 
read  it  in  the  stars,  and  the  wind,  as  it  sighs  through  the 
maple  trees,  whispers  it  to  my  ear." 

"Oh,  if  my  aunt  could  see  her  now,"  thought  'Lena; 
but  as  if  her  mother's  presence  had  a  paralyzing  power, 
Anna,  when  with  her,  was  quiet,  gentle,  and  silent,  and 
if  Mrs.  Livingstone  sometimes  missed  her  merry  laugh 
and  playful  ways,  she  thought  the  air  of  dignity  which 
seemed  to  have  taken  their  place  quite  an  improvement, 
and  far  more  in  keeping  with  the  bride  elect  of  Captain 
Atherton. 

About  this  time  Mr.  Livingstone  returned,  appearing 
greatly  surprised  at  the  phase  which  affairs  had  assumed 
in  his  absence,  but  when  'Lena  whispered  to  him  her 
fears,  he  smilingly  answered,  "  I  reckon  you're  mistaken. 
Her  mother  would  have  found  it  out— where  is  she  ?  " 

In  her  chamber  at  the  old  place  by  the  open  window 
they  found  her,  and  though  she  did  not  as  usual  spring 
eagerly  forward  to  meet  her  father,  her  greeting  was 
wholly  natural ;  but  when  Mr.  Livingstone,  taking  her 
upon  his  knee,  said,  gently,  "  They  tell  me  you  are^to  be 
married  soon,"  the  wildness  came  fcack  to  her  eye,  and 
'Lena  wondered  he  could  not  see  it.  But  he  did  not,  and 
smoothing  her  disordered  tresses,  he  said,  "Tell  me,  my 
daughter,  does  this  marriage  please  you?  Do  you  enter 
into  it  willingly  ?  " 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  wavering,  and  'Lena  held 
her  breath  to  catch  the  answer,  which  came  at  last,  while 
the  eyes  shone  brighter  than  ever— "  Willing  ?  yes,  or  I 
should  not  do  it;  no  one  compels  me,  else  I  would  resist." 

'|  Woman's  nature,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone,  laughingly, 
while  'Lena  turned  away  to  hide  her  tears. 


318  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Day  after  day  preparations  went  on,  for  Mrs.  Livingstone 
would  have  the  ceremony  a  grand  and  imposing  one.  In 
fhe  neighborhood,  the  fast  approaching  event  was  dis 
cussed,  some  pronouncing  it  a  most  fortunate  thing  for 
Anna,  who  could  not,  of  course,  expect  to  make  so  eligi 
ble  a  match  as  her  more  brilliant  sister,  while  others — the 
sensible  portion — wondered,  pitied,  and  blamed,  attribu 
ting  the  whole  to  the  ambitious  mother,  whose  agency  in 
her  son's  marriage  was  now  generally  known.  At  Maple 
Grove  closets,  chairs,  tables,  and  sofas  were  loaded  down 
with  finery,  and  like  an  automaton,  Anna  stood  up  while 
they  fitted  to  her  the  rich  white  satin,  scarcely  whiter  than 
her  own  face,  and  Mrs.  Livingstone,  when  she  saw  her 
daughter's  indifference,  would  pinch  her  bloodless  cheeks, 
wondering  how  she  could  care  so  little  for  her  good 
fortune. 

Unnatural  mother ! — from  the  little  grave  on  the  sunny 
slope,  now  grass-grown  and  green,  came  there  no  warn 
ing  voice  to  stay  her  in  her  purpose  ?  No ;  she  scarcely 
thought  of  Mabel  now,  and  with  unflinching  determination 
she  kept  on  her  way. 

But  there  was  one  who,  night  and  day,  pondered  in  her 
mind  the  best  way  of  saving  Anna  from  the  living  death 
to  which  she  would  ^surely  awake,  when  it  was  too  late. 
At  last  she  resolved  on  going  herself  to  Captain  Atherton, 
telling  him  just  how  it  was,  and  if  there  was  a  spark  of 
generosity  in  his  nature,  she  thought  he  would  release 
her  cousin.  But  this  plan  required  much  caution,  for  she 
would  not  have  her  uncle's  family  know  of  it,  and  if  she 
failed,  she  preferred  that  it  should  be  kept  a  secret  from 
the  world.  There  was  then  no  alternative  but  to  go  in 
the  night,  and  alone.  She  did  not  now  often  sit  with  the 
family,  and  she  knew  they  would  not  miss  her.  So,  one 
evening  whei  they  were  as  usual  assembled  in  the  parlor, 


ANNA  AND  CAPTAIN  ATIIERTON.  319 

she  stole  softly  from  the  house,  and  managing  to  pass  the  ne 
gro  quarters  unobserved,  she  went  down  to  the  lower  sta 
ble,  where  she  saddled  the  pony  she  was  now  accustomed 
to  ride,  and  leading  him  by  a  circuitous  path  out  upon 
the  turnpike,  mounted  and  rode  away. 

The  night  was  moonless,  and  the  starlight  obscured  by 
heavy  clouds,  but  the  pale  face  and  golden  curls  of  Anna, 
for  whose  sake  she  was  there  alone,  gleamed  on  her  in 

the  darkness,  and  'Lena  was  not  afraid.  Once — twice 

she  thought  she  caught  the  sound  of  another  horse's  hoofs, 
but  when  she  stopped  to  listen,  all  was  still,  and  again 
she  pressed  forward,  while  her  pursuer  (for  'Lena  was 
followed)  kept  at  a  greater  distance.  Durward  had  been 
to  Frankfort,  and  on  his  way  home  had  stopped  at  Ma 
ple  Grove  to  deliver  a  package.  Stopping  only  a  mo 
ment,  he  reached  the  turnpike  just  after 'Lena  struck  into 
it.  Thinking  it  was  a  servant,  he  was  about  to  pass  her, 
when  her  horse  sheered  at  something  on  the  road-side, 
and  involuntarily  she  exclaimed,  "  Courage,  Dido,  there's 
nothing  to  fear." 

Instantly  he  recognized  her  voice,  and  was  about  to 
overtake  and  speak  to  her,  but  thinking  that  her  mission 
was  a  secret  one,  or  she  would  not  be  there  alone,  he  de 
sisted.  Still  he  could  not  leave  her  thus.  Her  safety 
might  be  endangered,  and  reining  in  his  steed,  and  ac 
commodating  his  pace  to  hers,  he  followed  without  her 
knowledge.  On  she  went  until  she  reached  the  avenue 
leading  to  "  Sunnyside,"  as  Captain  Atherton  termed  his 
residence,  and  there  she  stopped,  going  on  foot  to  the 
house,  while,  hidden  by  the  deep  darkness,  Durward 
waited  and  watched. 

Half  timidly  'Lena  rang  the  door-bell,  dropping  her 
veil  over  her  face  that  she  might  not  be  recognized. 

"  I  want  to  see  your  master,"  she  said  to  the  woman 


320  'LEX A  RIVERS. 

who  answered  her  ring,  and  who  in  some  astonish  ment 
replied,  "  Bless  yoi ,  miss,  Mas'r  Atherton  done  gone  to 
Lexington  and  won't  be  home  till  to-morry." 

"  Gone ! "  repeated  'Lena  in  a  disappointed  tone.  "  Oh, 
I'm  so  sorry." 

"  Is  you  the  new  miss  what's  comin'  here  to  live  ?  " 
asked  the  negro,  who  was  Captain  Atherton's  house 
keeper. 

Instantly  the  awkwardness  of  her  position  flashed  upon 
'Lena,  but  resolving  to  put  a  bold  face  on  the  matter,  she 
removed  her  veil,  saying,  playfully,  "  You  know  me  now, 
Aunt  Martha." 

"In  course  I  do,"  answered  the  negro,  holding  up 
both  hands  in  amazement,  "  but  what  sent  you  here  this 
dark,  unairthly  night  ?  " 

"  Business  with  your  master,"  and  then  suddenly  re 
membering  that  among  her  own  race  Aunt  Martha  was 
accounted  an  intolerable  gossip,  she  began  to  wish  she 
had  not  come. 

But  it  could  not  now  be  helped,  and  turning  away,  she 
walked  slowly  down  the  avenue,  wondering  what  the  re 
sult  would  be.  Again  they  were  in  motion,  she  and  Dur- 
ward,  who  followed  until  he  saw  her  safe  home,  and  then, 
glad  that  no  one  had  seen  her  but  himself,  he  retraced 
his  steps,  pondering  on  the  mystery  which  he  could  not 
fathom.  After  'Lena  left  Sunnyside,  a  misty  rain  came 
on,  and  by  the  time  she  reached  her  home,  her  long 
riding-dress  was  wet  and  drizzled,  the  feathers  on  her  cap 
were  drooping,  and  to  crown  all,  as  she  was  crossing  the 
hall  with  stealthy  step,  she  came  suddenly  upon  her  aunt, 
who,  surprised  at  her  appearance,  demanded  of  her  where 
she  had  been.  But  'Lena  refused  to  tell,  and  in  quite  a 
passion  Mrs.  Livingstone  laid  the  case  before  her  husband 

"  Lena  had  been  off  that  dark,  rainy  night,  riding  some- 


ANNA  AND  CAPTAIN  ATHERTON.  321 

where  with  somebody,  she  wouldn't  tell  who,  lut  she 
(Mrs.  Livingstone)  most  knew  it  was  Durward,  and  some 
thing  must  be  done." 

Accordingly,  next  day,  when  they  chanced  to  be  alone, 
Mr.  Livingstone  took  the  opportunity  of  questioning 
'Lena,  who  dared  not  disobey  him,  and  with  many  tears 
she  confessed  the  whole,  saying  that  "  if  it  were  wrong 
she  was  very  sorry." 

"  You  acted  foolishly,  to  say  the  least  of  it,"  answered 
her  uncle,  adding,  drily,  that  he  thought  she  troubled  her 
self  altogether  too  much  about  Anna,  who  seemed  happy 
and  contented. 

Still  he  was  ill  at  ease.  'Lena's  fears  disturbed  him, 
and  for  many  days  he  watched  his  daughter  narrowly, 
admitting  to  himself  that  there  was  something  strange 
about  her.  But  possibly  all  engaged  girls  acted  so  ;  his 
wife  said  they  did  ;  and  hating  anything  like  a  scene,  he 
concluded  to  let  matters  take  their  course,  half  hoping, 
and  half  believing,  too,  that  something  would  occur  to 
prevent  the  marriage.  What  it  would  be,  or  by  what 
agency  it  would  be  brought  about,  he  didn't  know,  but 
he  resolved  to  let  'Lena  alone,  and  when  his  wife  insisted 
upon  his  "lecturing  her  soundly  for  meddling,"  he  re 
fused,  venturing  even  to  say,  that  "  she  hadn't  meddled." 

Meantime,  a  new  idea  had  entered  'Lena's  mind.  She 
would  write  to  Mr.  Everett.  There  might  yet  be  some  mis 
take  ;  she  had  read  of  such  things  in  stories,  and  it  could  do 
no  harm.  Gradually  as  she  wrote,  hope  grew  strong  with 
in  her,  and  it  became  impressed  upon  her  that  there  had 
been  some  deep-laid,  fiendish  plot.  If  so,  she  dared  not 
trust  her  letter  with  old  Co3sar,  who  might  be  bribed  by 
his  mistress.  And  how  to  convey  it  to  the  office  was  now 
the  grand  difficulty.  As  if  fortune  favored  her  plan,  Dur 
N*  '  21 


322  'LEX A  RIVERS. 

ward,  that  very  afternoon,  called  at  Maple  Grc  ve,  being, 
as  he  said,  on  his  way  to  Frankfort. 

'Lena  would  have  died  rather  than  ask  a  favor  of  him 
for  herself,  but  to  save  Anna  she  could  do  almost  any 
thing.  Hastily  securing  the  letter,  and  throwing  on  her 
sun-bonnet,  she  sauntered  down  the  lawn  and  out  upon 
the  turnpike,  where  by  the  gate  she  awaited  his  coming. 
"  Lena— excuse  me— Miss  Rivers,  is  it  you  ?  "  asked 
Durward,  touching  his  hat,  as  in  evident  confusion  she 
came  forward,  asking  if  she  could  trust  him. 

"  Trust  me  ?    Yes,  with  anything,"  answered  Durward, 

quickly  dismounting,  and  forgetting  everything  save  tho 

bright,  beautiful  face  which  looked  up  to  him  so  eagerly. 

"  Then,"  answered  'Lena,  "  take  this  letter  and  see  it 

deposited  safely,  will  you  ?  " 

Glancing  at  the  superscription,  Durward  felt  his  face 
crimson,  while  he  instantly  remembered  what  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone  had  once  said  concerning  'Lena's  attachment  to 
Mr.  Everett. 

"  Sometime,  perhaps,  I  will  explain,"  said  'Lena,  observ 
ing  the  expression  of  his  countenance,  and  then  adding, 
with  some  bitterness,  "  I  assure  you  there  is  no  harm  in 
it." 

"  Of  course  not,"  answered  Durward,  again  mounting 
his  horse,  and  riding  away  more  puzzled  than  ever,  while 
'Lena  returned  to  the  house,  which  everywhere  gave  to 
kens  of  the  approaching  nuptials. 

Already  had  several  costly  bridal  gifts  arrived,  and 
among  them  was  a  box  from  the  captain,  containing  a  set 
of  diamonds,  which  Mrs.  Livingstone  placed  in  her  daugh 
ter's  waving  hair,  bidding  her  mark  their  effect.  But  not 
a  muscle  of  Anna's  face  changed ;  nothing  moved  her ; 
and  with  the  utmost  indifference  she  gazed  on  the  prep 
arations  around  her.  A  stranger  would  have  said  'Lena 


ANNA  AND  CAP1AIN  ATIIERTON.  323 

was  the  bride,  for  with  flushed  cheeks  and  nervously  anx 
ious  manner,  she  watched  each  sun  as  it  rose  and  set, 
wondering  what  the  result  would  be.  Once,  when  asked 
whom  she  would  have  for  her  bridesmaid  and  groomsman, 
Anna  had  answered,  "  Nellie  and  John  ! "  but  that  could 
not  be,  for  the  latter  had  imposed  upon  himself  the  pen 
ance  of  waiting  a  whole  year  ere  he  spoke  to  Nellie  of 
that  which  lay  nearest  his  heart,  and  in  order  the  better 
to  keep  his  vow,  he  had  gone  from  home,  first  winning 
from  her  the  promise  that  she  would  not  become  engaged 
antil  his  return.  And  now,  when  he  learned  of  his  "sis 
ter's  request,  he  refused  to  come,  saying,  "if  she  would 
make  such  a  consummate  fool  of  herself,  he  did  not  wish 
vo  see  her." 

So  Carrie  and  Durward  were  substituted,  and  as  this  ar 
rangement  brought  the  latter  occasionally  to  the  house, 
Lena  had  opportunities  of  asking  him  if  there  had  yet 
eome  any  answer  ^to  her  letter ;  and  much  oftener  than 
oe  would  otherwise  have  done,  Durward  went  down  to 
Frankfort,  for  he  felt  that  it  was  no  unimportant  matter 
which  thus  deeply  interested  'Lena.  At  last,  the  day  be 
fore  the  bridal  came,  Durward  had  gone  to  the  city,  and 
in  a  state  of  great  excitement  'Lena  awaited  his  return, 
watching  with  a  trembling  heart  as  the  sun  went  down 
behind  the  western  hills.  Slowly  the  hours  dragged  on, 
and  many  a  time  she  stole  out  in  the  deep  darkness  to 
listen,  but  there  was  nothing  to  be  heard  save  the  distant 
cry  of  the  night-owl,  and  she  was  about  retracing  her 
steps  for  the  fifth  time,  when  from  behind  a  clump  of 
\ose-bushes  started  a  little  dusky  form,  which  whispered 
softly,  "  Is  you  Miss  'Leny  ?  " 

Repressing  the  scream  which  came  near  escaping  her 
lips,  'Lena  answered,  ''Yes;  what  do  you  want?"  while 


324  LENA  RIVERS. 

at  the  same  moment  she  recognized  a  little  hunch-back 
belonging  to  General  Fontaine. 

"  Marster  Everett  tell  me  to  fotch  you  this,  and  wait 
for  the  answer,"  said  the  boy,  passing  her  a  tiny  note. 

"  Master  Everett !  Is  he  here  ?  "  she  exclaimed,  catch 
ing  the  note  and  reentering  the  house,  whereby  the  light 
of  the  hall  lamp  she  read  what  he  had  written. 

It  was  very  short,  but  it  told  all — how  he  had  written 
again  and  again,  receiving  no  answer,  and  was  about  com 
ing  himself  when  a  severe  illness  prevented.  The  mar 
riage,  he  said,  was  that  of  his  uncle,  for  whom  he  was 
named,  and  who  had  in  truth  gone  on  to  Washington,  the 
home  of  his  second  wife.  It  closed  by  asking  her  to  meet 
him,  with  Anna,  on  one  of  the  arbor  bridges  at  midnight. 
Hastily  tearing  a  blank  leaf  from  a  book  which  chanced 
to  be  lying  in  the  hall,  'Lena  wrote,  "  We  will  be  there," 
and  giving  it  to  the  negro,  bade  him  hasten  back. 

There  was  no  longer  need  to  wait  for  Dm* ward,  who, 
if  he  got  no  letter,  was  not  to  call,  and  trembling  in  every 
nerve,  'Lena  sought  her  chamber,  there  to  consider  what 
she  was  next  to  do.  For  some  time  past  Carrie  had  oc 
cupied  a  separate  room  from  Anna,  who,  she  said,  dis 
turbed  her  with  her  late  hours  and  restless  turnings,  so 
'Lena's  part  seemed  comparatively  easy.  Waiting  until 
the  house  was  still,  she  entered  Anna's  room,  finding  her, 
as  she  had  expected,  at  her  old  place  by  the  open  win- 
dow,  her  head  resting  upon  the  sill,  and  when  she  ap 
proached  nearer,  she  saw  that  she  was  asleep. 

"Let  her  sleep  yet  awhile,"  said  she;  "it  will  do  her 
good." 

In  the  room  adjoining  lay  the  bridal  dress,  and  'Lena's 
first  impulse  was  to  trample  it  under  her  feet,  but  passing 
it  with  a  shudder,  she  hastily  collected  whatever  she 
thought  Anna  would  most  need.  These  she  placed  in  a 


ANNA  AND   CAPTAIN  ATHERTON.  325 

small-sized  trunk,  and  then  knowing  it  was  time,  she  ap 
proached  her  cousin,  who  seemed  to  be  dreaming,  for  she 
murmured  the  name  of  "  Malcolm." 

"  He  is  here,  love— he  has  come  to  save  you,"  she  whis 
pered,  while  Anna,  only  partially  aroused,  gazed  at  her 
so  vacantly,  that  'Lena's  heart  stood  still  with  fear  lest 
the  poor  girl's  reason  were  wholly  gone.  "Anna,  Anna," 
she  said,  "awake;  Malcolm  is  here— in  the  garden,  where 
you  must  meet  him — come." 

^  "Malcolm  is  married,"  said  Anna, in  a  whisper— " mar- 
ried— and  my  bridal  dress  is  in  there,  aU  looped  with  flow- 
ers ;  would  you  like  to  see  it  ?  " 

"  Our  Father  in  heaven  help  me,"  cried  'Lena,  clasp 
ing  her  hands  in  anguish,  while  her  tears  fell  like  rain  on 
Anna's  upturned  face. 

This  seemed  to  arouse  her,  for  in  a  natural  tone  she 

asked  why  'Lena  wept.     Again  and  again  'Lena  repeated 

)  her  that  Malcolm  had  come— that  he  was  not  married 

-that  he  had  come  for  her ;  and  as  Anna  listened,  the 

torpor  slowly  passed  away— the  wild  light  in  her  eyes 

grew  less  bright,  for  it  was  quenched  by  the  first  tears 

she  had  shed  since  the  shadow  fell  upon  her;  and  when 

'Lena  produced  the  note,  and  she  saw  it  was  indeed  true 

the  ice  about  her  heart  was  melted,  and  in  choking  long- 

drawn  sobs,  her  pent-up  feelings  gave  way,  as  she  saw  the 

gulpn  whose  verge  she  had  been  treading.     Crouchino-  at 

'Lena's  feet,  she  kissed  the  very  hem  of  her  garments, 

ssing  her  as  her  preserver,  and  praying  heaven  to  bless 

er,  also.     It  was  the  work  of  a  few  moments  to  array 

her  in  her  traveling  dress,  and  then  very  cautiously  'Lena 

lecher  down  the  stairs,  and  out  into  the  open  air. 

"  If  I  could  see  father  once,"  said  Anna ;  but  such  an 
act  involved  too  much  danger,  and  with  one  lingering 
tearful  look  at  her  old  home,  she  moved  awav,  supported 


326  'LENA   RIVERS. 

by  'Lena,  who  rather  dragged  than  led  her  over  the  gmv 
eled  walk. 

As  they  approached  the  arbor  bridge,  they  saw  the 
glimmering  light  of  a  lantern,  for  the  night  was  intensely 
dark,  and  in  a  moment  Anna  was  clasped  in  the  arms 
which  henceforth  were  to  shelter  her  from  the  storms  of 
life.  Helpless  as  an  infant  she  lay,  while  'Lena,  motion 
ing  the  negro  who  was  in  attendance  to  follow  her,  re 
turned  to  the  house  for  the  trunk,  which  was  soon  safely 
deposited  hi  the  carriage  at  the  gate. 

"  Words  cannot  express  what  I  owe  you,"  said  Malcolm, 
when  he  gave  her  his  hand  at  parting,  "  but  of  this  be  as 
sured,  so  long  as  I  live  you  have  in  me  a  friend  and  broth 
er."  Turning  back  for  a  moment,  he  added,  "  This  flight 
is,  I  know,  unnecessary,  for  I  could  prevent  to-morrow's 
expected  event  in  other  ways  than  this,  but  revenge  is 
sweet,  and  I  trust  I  am  excusable  for  taking  it  hi  my  own 
way." 

Anna  could  not  speak,  but  the  look  of  deep  gratitude 
which  beamed  from  her  eyes  was  far  more  eloquent  than 
words.  •  Upon  the  broad  piazza  'Lena  stood  until  the  last 
faint  sound  of  the  carriage  wheels  died  away ;  then,  weary 
and  worn,  she  sought  her  room,  locking  Anna's  door  as 
she  passed  it,  and  placing  tbe  key  hi  her  pocket.  Softly 
she  crept  to  bed  by  the  side  of  her  slumbering  grand- 
mother,  and  with  a  fervent  prayer  for  the  safety  of  the 
fugitives,  fell  asleep. 


THE  RESULT.  327 

CHAPTER  XXX. 

THE    RESULT. 

THE  loud  ringing  of  the  breakfast-bell  aroused  'Lena 
from  her  heavy  slumber,  and  with  a  vague  consciousness 
of  what  had  transpired  the  night  previous,  she  at  first 
turned  wearily  upon  her  pillow,  wishing  it  were  not  morn 
ing  ;  but  soon  remembering  all,  she  sprang  up,  and  after 
a  hasty  toilet,  descended  to  the  breakfast-room,  where 
another  chair  was  vacant,  another  face  was  missing. 
Without  any  suspicion  of  the  truth,  Mrs.  Livingstone 
spoke  of  Anna's  absence,  saying  she  presumed  the  poor 
girl  was  tired  and  sleepy,  and  this  was  admitted  as  an  ex 
cuse  for  her  tardiness.  But  when  breakfast  was  over  and 
she  still  did  not  appear,  Corinda  was  sent  to  call  her,  re 
turning  soon  with  the  information  that  "she'd  knocked  and 
knocked,  but  Miss  Anna  would  not  answer,  and  when  she 
tried  the  door  she  found  it  locked." 

Involuntarily  Mr.  Livingstone  glanced  at  'Lena,  whose 
face  wore  a  scarlet  hue  as  she  hastily  quitted  the  table. 
With  a  presentiment  of  something,  he  himself  started  for 
Anna's  room,  followed  by  his  wife  and  Carrie,  while  'Le 
na,  half-way  up  the  stairs,  listened  breathlessly  for  the 
result.  It  was  useless  knocking  for  admittance,  for  there 
was  no  one  within  to  bid  them  enter,  and  with  a  powerful 
effort  Mr.  Livingstone  burst  the  lock.  The  window  was 
open,  the  lamp  was  still  burning,  emitting,  a  faint,  sickly 
odor ;  the  bed  was  undisturbed,  the  room  in  confusion, 
and  Anna  was  gone.  Mrs.  Livingstone's  eye  took  in  all 
this  at  a  glance,  but  her  husband  saw  only  the  latter,  and 
ere  he  was  aware  of  what  he  did,  a  fervent  "  Thank 
heaven  ! "  escaped  him. 


328  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"She's  gone — runaway — dead, may-be,"  exclaimed  Mrs, 
Livingstone,  wringing  her  hands  in  unfeigned  distress,  and 
instinctively  drawing  nearer  to  her  husband  for  comfort. 

By  this  time  'Lena  had  ventured  into  the  room,  and 
turning  toward  her,  Mr.  Livingstone  said,  very  gently, 
"  'Lena,  where  is  our  child  ?  " 

"In  Ohio,  I  dare  say,  by  this  time,  as  she  took  the  night 
train  at  Midway  for  Cincinnati,"  said  'Lena,  thinking  she 
might  as  well  tell  the  whole  at  once. 

"  In  Ohio  ! "  shrieked  Mrs.  Livingstone,  fiercely  grasp 
ing  'Lena's  arm.  "What  has  she  gone  to  Ohio  for? 
Speak,  ingrate,  for  you  have  done  the  deed — I  am  sure 
of  that !  " 

"  It  was  Mr.  Everett's  wish  to  return  home  that  way,  I 
believe,"  coolly  answered  'Lena,  without  quailing  in  the 
least  from  the  eyes  bent  so  angrily  upon  her. 

Instantly  Mrs.  Livingstone's  fingers  loosened  their 
grasp,  while  her  face  grew  livid  with  mingled  passion  and 
fear.  Her  fraud  was  discovered — her  stratagem  had 
failed — and  she  was  foiled  in  this,  her  second  darling 
scheme.  But  she  was  yet  to  learn  what  agency  'Lena 
had  in  the  matter,  and  this  information  her  husband  ob 
tained  for  her.  There  was  no  anger  in  the  tones  of  his 
voice  when  he  asked  his  niece  to  explain  the  mystery,  else 
she  might  not  have  answered,  for  'Lena  could  not  be 
driven.  Now,  however,  she  felt  that  he  had  a  right  to 
know,  and  she  told  him  all  she  knew ;  what  she  had  done 
herself  and  why  she  had  done  it ;  that  General  Fontaine, 
to  whom  Malcolm  had  gone  in  his  trouble,  had  kindly  as 
sisted  him  by  lending  both  servants  and  carriage;  but 
upon  the  intercepted  letters  she  could  throw  no  light. 

"  Twas  a  cursed  act,  and  whoever  was  guilty  of  it  is 
unworthy  the  name  of  either  man  or  woman,"  said  Mr 
Livingstone,  while  his  eye  rested  sternly  upon  his  wife. 


THE   RESULT.  329 

She  knew  that  he  suspected  her,  but  ne  had  no  proof, 
and  resolving  to  make  the  best  of  the  matter,  she,  too, 
united  with  him  in  denouncing  the  deed,  wondering  who 
could  have  done  it,  and  meanly  suggesting  Maria  Fon 
taine,  a  pupil  of  Mr.  Everett's,  who  had,  at  one  time,  felt 
a  slight  preference  for  him.  But  this  did  not'  deceive  her 
husband — neither  did  it  help  her  at  ah1  in  the  present 
emergency.  The  bride  was  gone,  and  already  she  felt 
the  tide  of  scandal  and  gossip  which  she  knew  would  be 
the  theme  of  the  entire  neighborhood.  Still,  if  her  own 
shameful  act  was  kept  a  secret,  she  could  bear  it,  and  it 
must  be.  No  one  knew  of  it  except  Captain  Atherton 
and  Caesar,  the  former  of  whom  would  keep  his  own 
counsel,  while  fear  of  a  passport  down  the  river,  the  ne 
groes'  dread,  would  prevent  the  latter  from  telling. 

Accordingly,  her  chagrin  was  concealed,  and  affecting 
to  treat  the  whole  matter  as  a  capital  joke,  worthy  of  be 
ing  immortalized  in  romance,  she  returned  to  her  room, 
and  hastily  writing  a  few  lines,  rang  the  bell  for  Ca3sar, 
who  soon  appeared,  declaring  that  "  as  true  as  he  lived 
and  breathed  and  drew  the  breath  of  life,  he'd  done  gin 
miss  every  single  letter  afore  handin'  'em  to  anybody 
else." 

"  Shut  your  mouth  and  mind  you  keep  it  shut,  or  you'll 
find  yourself  in  New  Orleans,"  was  Mrs.  Livingstone's 
very  lady-like  response,  as  she  handed  him  the  note,  bid 
ding  him  take  it  to  Captain  Atherton. 

For  some  reason  or  other  the  captain  this  morning  was 
exceedingly  restless,  walking  from  room  to  room,  watch 
ing  the  clock,  then  the  sun,  and  finally,  in  order  to  pass 
the  time  away,  trying  on  his  wedding  suit,  to  see  how  he 
was  going  to  look !  Perfectly  satisfied  with  his  appear 
ance,  he  was  in  imagination  going  through  the  ceremony, 
and  had  just,  inclined  his  head  in  token  that  he  would  take 


330  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

Anna  for  his  wife,  when  Mrs.  Livingstone's  note  was  hand, 
ed  him.  At  first  he  could  hardly  believe  the  evidence  of 
his  own  eyes.  Anna  gone ! — run  away  with  Mr.  Everett  1 
It  could  not  be,  and  sinking  into  a  chair,  he  felt,  as  he  af 
terwards  expressed  it,  "  mighty  queer  and  shaky." 

But  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  advised  him  to  put  a  bold 
face  on  it,  and  this,  upon  second  thought,  he  determined 
to  do.  Hastily  changing  his  dress,  now  useless,  he  mount 
ed  his  steed,  and  was  soon  on  his  way  toward  Maple 
Grove,  a  new  idea  dawning  upon  his  mind,  and,  ere  his 
arrival,  settling  itself  into  a  fixed  purpose.  From  Aunt 
Martha  he  had  heard  of 'Lena's  strange  visit,  and  he  now 
remembered  the  many  times  she  had  tried  to  withdraw 
him  from  Anna,  appropriating  him  to  herself  for  hours. 
The  captain's  vanity  was  wonderful.  Sunnyside  needed  a 
mistress — he  needed  a  wife.  'Lena  was  poor — perhaps 
she  liked  him — and  if  so,  there  might  be  a  wredding,  after 
all.  She  was  beautiful,  and  would  sustain  the  honors  of 
his  house  with  a  better  grace,  he  verily  believed,  than 
Anna !  Full  of  these  thoughts,  he  reached  Maple  Grove, 
where  he  found  Durward,  to  whom  Mrs.  Livingstone 
had  detailed  the  whole  circumstance,  dwelling  long  upon 
'Lena's  meddling  propensities,  and  charging  the  whole 
affair  upon  her. 

"  But  she  knew  what  she  was  about — she  had  an  ob 
ject  in  view,  undoubtedly,"  she  added,  glad  of  an  oppor 
tunity  to  give  vent  to  her  feelings  against  'Lena. 

"  Pray,  what  was  her  object  ?  "  asked  Durward,  and 
Mrs.  Livingstone  replied,  "  I  told  you  once  that  'Lena 
was  ambitious,  and  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  she 
would  willingly  marry  Captain  Atherton,  notwithstanding 
he  is  so  much  older." 

She  forgot  that  there  was  the  same  disparity  between  the 
captain  and  Anna  as  bet  veer  him  and  'Lena,  but  Durward 


THE    RESULT.  331 

did  not,  and  with  derisive  smile  he  listened,  while  sht  pro. 
ceeded  to  give  her  reasons  for  thinking  that  a  desire  to 
supplant  Anna  was  the  sole  object  which  'Lena  had  in 
view,  for  what  else  could  have  prompted  that  midnight 
ride  to  Sunnyside.  Again  Durward  smiled,  but  before  he 
could  answer,  the  bridegroom  elect  stood  before  them, 
looking  rather  crest-fallen,  but  evidently  making  a  great 
effort  to  appear  as  usual. 

"  And  so  the  bird  has  flown  ?  "  said  he.  "  Well,  it  takes 
a  Yankee,  after  all,  to  manage  a  case,  but  how  did  he  find 
it  out  ?  " 

Briefly  Mrs.  Livingstone  explained  to  him  'Lena's  agen 
cy  in  the  matter,  omitting,  this  time,  to  impute  to  her  the 
same  motive  which  she  had  done  when  stating  the  case  -to 
Durward. 

"  So  'Lena  is  at  the  bottom  of  it  ?  "  said  he,  rubbing  his 
little  fat,  red  Tiands.  "  Well,  well,  where  is  she  ?  I'd 
like  to  see  her." 

"  Corinda,  tell  'Lena  she  is  wanted  in  the  parlor,"  said 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  while  Durward,  not  wishing  to  witness 
the  interview,  arose  to  go,  but  Mrs.  Livingstone  urged 
him  so  hard  to  stay,  that  he  at  last  resumed  his  seat  on  the 
sofa  by  the  side  of  Carrie. 

"Captain  Atherton  wishes  to  question  you  conceming 
the  part  you  have  taken  in  this  elopement,"  said  Mrs! 
Livingstone,  sternly,  as  'Lena  appeared  in  the  door- way. 

"No  I  don't,"  said  the  captain,  gallantly  offering  'Lena 
a  chair.  "  My  business  with  Miss  Rivers  concerns  herself." 

"  I  am  here,  sir,  to  answer  any  proper  question,"  said 
'Lena,  proudly,  at  the  same  time  declining  the  proffered 
seat. 

"  There's  an  air  worthy  of  a  queen,"  thought  the  captain, 
and  determining  to  make  his  business  known  at  once,  he 
arose,  and  turning  toward  Mrs.  Livingstone,  Durward. 


332  TENA  RIVERS. 

and  Carrie,  whom  he  considered  his  audience,  he  com 
menced.  "  What  I  am  about  to  say  may  seem  strange,  but 
the  fact  is,  I  want  a  wife.  I've  lived  alone  long  enough. 
I  waited  for  Anna  eighteen  years,  and  now's  she  gone. 
Everything  is  in  readiness  for  the  bridal ;  the  guests  are 
invited ;  nothing  wanting  but  the  bride.  Now  if  I  could 
find  a  substitute." 

"  Not  in  me,"  muttered  Carrie,  drawing  nearer  to  Dur- 
ward,  while  with  a  sarcastic  leer  the  captain  continued  : 
"  Don't  refuse  before  you  are  asked,  Miss  Livingstone.  I 
do  not  aspire  to  the  honor  of  your  hand,  but  I  do  ask  Miss 
Rivers  to  be  my  wife — here  before  you  all.  She  shall  live 
like  a  princess — she  and  her  grandmother  both.  Come, 
what  do  you  say  ?  Many  a  poor  girl  would  jump  at  the 
chance." 

The  rich  blood  which  usually  dyed  'Lena's  cheek  was 
gone,  and  pale  as  the  marble  mantel  against  which  she  leaned, 
she  answered,  proudly,  "  I  would  sooner  die  than  link  my 
destiny  with  one  who  could  so  basely  deceive  my  cousin, 
makino-  her  believe  it  was  her  betrothed  husband  whom 

O 

he  saw  in  Washington  instead  of  his  uncle  !  Marry  you  f 
Never,  if  I  beg  my  bread  from  door  to  door !  " 

"  Noble  girl !  "  come  involuntarily  from  the  lips  of  Dur- 
wai  1,  who  had  held  his  breath  for  her  answer,  and  who 
now  glanced  triumphantly  at  Mrs.  Livingstone,  whose 
surmises  were  thus  proved  incorrect. 

The  captain's  self-pride  was  touched,  that  a  poor,  hum 
ble  girl  should  refuse  him  with  his  half  million.  A  sense 
of  the  ridiculous  position  in  which  he  was  placed  mad 
dened  him,  and  in  a  violent  rage  he  replied,  "  You  won't, 
hey?  What  under  heavens  have  you  hung  round  me  so 
for,  sticking  yourself  in  between  me  and  Anna  when  you 
knew  you  were  not  wanted  ?  " 


THE    RESULT.  333 

"  I  did  it,  sir,  at  Anna's  request,  to  relieve  her — and  for 
nothing  else." 

"And  was  it  at  her  request  that  you  went  alone  to 
Sunnyside  on  that  dark,  rainy  night  ?  "  chimed  in  Mrs* 
Livingstone. 

"  No,  madam,"  said  'Lena,  turning  toward  her  aunt. 
"  I  had  in  vain  implored  of  you  to  save  her  from  a  mar 
riage  every  way  irksome  to  her,  when  in  her  right  mind, 
but  you  would  not  listen,  and  I  resolved  to  appeal  to  the 
captain's  better  nature.  In  this  I  failed,  and  then  I  wrote 
to  Mr.  Everett,  with  the  result  which  you  see." 

In  her  first  excitement  Mrs.  Livingstone  had  forgotten 
to  ask  who  was  the  bearer  of  'Lena's  letter,  but  remem 
bering  it  now,  she  put  the  question.  'Lena  would  not  im 
plicate  Durward  without  his  permission,  but  while  she 
hesitated,  he  answered  for  her,  "  I  carried  that  letter,  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  though  I  did  not  then  know  its  nature.  Still, 
if  I  had,  I  should  have  done  the  same,  and  the  event  has 
proved  that  I  was  right  in  so  doing." 

"  Ah,  indeed !  "  said  the  captain  growing  more  and  more 
nettled  and  disagreeable.  "  Ah,  indeed  !  Mr.  Bellmont 
leagued  with  Miss  Rivers  against  me.  Perhaps  she  would 
not  so  bluntly  refuse  an  offer  coming  from  you,  but  I  can 
tell  you  it  won't  sound  very  well  that  the  Hon.  Mrs.  Bell 
mont  once  rode  four  miles  alone  in  the  night  to  visit  a 
bachelor.  Ha!  ha!  Miss  'Lena;  better  have  submitted 
to  my  terms  at  once,  for  don't  you  see  I  have  you  in  my 
power  ?  " 

"And  if  you  ever  use  that  power  to  her  disadvantage, 
you  answer  for  it  to  me ;  do  you  understand  ? "  ex 
claimed  Durward,  starting  up  and  confronting  Captain 
Atherton,  who,  the  veriest  coward  in  the  world,  shrank 
from  the  flashing  of  Durward's  eye,  and  meekly  answered, 
"  Yes,  yes — yes,  yes,  I  won't,  I  won't.  I  don't  wan't  to 


534  'LENA  RIVERS. 

fight.  I  like  'Lena.  I  don't  blame  Anna  for  running  awaj 
if  she  didn't  want  me — but  it's  left  me  in  a  deuced  mean 
scrape,  which  I  wish  you'd  help  me  out  of." 

Durward  saw  that  the  captain  was  in  earnest,  and  tak 
ing  his  proffered  hand,  promised  to  render  him  any  assist 
ance  in  his  power,  and  advising  him  to  be  present  himself 
in  the  evening,  as  the  first  meeting  with  his  acquaintances 
would  thus  be  over.  Upon  reflection,  the  captain  con 
cluded  to  follow  this  advice,  and  when  evening  arrived, 
and  with  it  those  who  had  not  heard  the  news,  he  was  in 
attendance,  together  with  Durward,  who  managed  the 
whole  affair  so  skillfully  that  the  party  passed  off  quite 
pleasantly,  the  disappointed  guests  playfully  condoling 
with  the  deserted  bridegroom,  who  received  their  jokes 
with  a  good  grace,  wishing  himself,  meantime,  anywhere 
but  there. 

That  night,  when  the  company  were  gone  and  all  around 
was  silent,  Mrs.  Livingstone  watered  her  pillow  with  the 
first  tears  she  had  shed  for  her  youngest  born,  whom  she 
well  knew  she  had  driven  from  home,  and  when  her  hus 
band  asked  what  they  should  do,  she  answered  with  a 
fresh  burst  of  tears,  "  Send  for  Anna  to  come  back." 

"  And  Malcolm,  too  ?  "  queried  Mr.  Livingstone,  know 
ing  it  was  useless  to  send  for  one  without  the  other. 

"  Yes,  Malcolm  too.  There's  room  for  both,"  said  the 
weeping  mother,  feeling  how  every  hour  she  should  miss 
the  little  girl,  whose  presence  had  in  it  so  much  of  sunlight 
and  joy 

But  Anna  would  not  return.  Away  to  the  northward, 
in  a  fairy  cottage  overhung  with  the  wreathing  honey 
suckle  and  the  twining  grape-vine,  where  the  first  sum 
mer  flowers  were  blooming  and  the  song-birds  were  car- 
oling  all  the  day  long,  her  home  was  henceforth  to  be, 
and  though  the  letter  which  contained  her  answer  to  her 


MOilE    CLOUDS. 


father's  earnest  appeal  was  stained  and  blotted,  it  told  of 
perfect  happiness  with  Malcolm,  who  kissed  away  her 
tears  as  she  wrote,  "  Tell  mother  I  cannot  come." 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

V 

MORE     CL  OTJDS. 

SINCE  the  morning  when  Dunvard  had  so  boldly  avowed 
himself  'Lena's  champion,  her  health  and  spirits  began  to 
improve.  That  she  was  not  wholly  indifferent  to  him  she 
had  every  reason  to  believe,  and  notwithstanding  the 
strong  barrier  between  them,  hope  sometimes  whispered 
to  her  of  a  future,  when  all  that  was  now  so  dark  and  mys 
terious  should  be  made  plain.  But  while  she  was  thus 
securely  dreaming,  a  cloud,  darker  and  deeper  than  any 
which  had  yet  overshadowed  her,  was  gathering  around 
her  pathway.  Gradually  had  the  story  of  her  ride  to 
Captain  Atherton's  gained  circulation,  magnifying  itself 
as  it  went,  until  at  last  it  was  currently  reported  that  at 
several  different  times  had  she  been  seen  riding  away  from 
Sunnyside  at  unseasonable  hours  of  the  night,  the  time 
varying  from  nine  in  the  evening  to  three  in  the  morning, 
according  to  the  exaggerating  powers  of  the  informer. 

But  few  believed  it,  and  yet  such  is  human  nature,  that 
each  and  every  one  repeated  it  to  his  or  her  neighbor, 
until  at  last  it  reached  Mrs.  Graham,  who,  forgetting  the 
caution  of  her  son,  said,  with  a  very  wise  look,  that  "  she 
was  not  at  all  surprised — she  had  from  the  first  suspected 
'Lena,  and  she  had  the  best  of  reasons  for  so  doing !  " 

Of  course  Mrs. Graham's  friend  was  exceedingly  anxious 


836  'LENA  RIVERS. 

to  know  what  she  meant,  and  by  dint  of  quizzing,  ques 
tioning,  and  promising  never  to  tell,  she  at  last  drew  out 
just  enough  of  the  story  to  know  that  Mr.  Graham  had  a 
daguerreotype  which  looked  just  like  'Lena,  and  that  Mrs. 
Graham  had  no  doubt  whatever  that  she  was  in  the  habit 
of  writing  to  him.  This  was  of  course  repeated,  not 
withstanding  the  promise  of  secrecy,  and  then  many  of 
the  neighbors  suddenly  remembered  some  little  circum 
stance,  trivial  in  itself,  but  all  going  to  swell  the  amount 
of  evidence  against  poor  'Lena,  who,  unconscious  of  the 
gathering  storm,  did  not  for  a  time  observe  the  sidelong 
glances  cast  toward  her  whenever  she  appeared  in  public. 

Erelong,  however,  the  cool  nods  and  distant  manners  of 
her  acquaintances  began  to  attract  her  attention,  causing 
her  to  wonder  what  it  meant.  But  there  was  no  one  of 
whom  she  would  ask  an  explanation.  John  Jr.  was  gone 
— Anna  was  gone — and  to  crown  all,  Durward,  too,  left 
the  neighborhood  just  as  the  first  breath  of  scandal  was 
beginning  to  set  the  waves  of  gossip  in  motion.  In  his 
absence,  Mrs.  Graham  felt  no  restraint,  whatever,  and  all 
that  she  knew,  together  with  many  things  that  she  didn't 
know,  she  told,  until  it  became  a  matter  of  serious  debate 
whether  'Lena  ought  not  to  be  cut  entirely.  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  and  her  clique  decided  in  the  affirmative,  and  when 
Mrs.  Fontaine,  who  was  a  weak  woman,  wholly  governed 
by  public  opinion,  gave  a  small  party  for  her  daughter 
Maria,  'Lena  was  purposely  omitted.  Hitherto  she  had 
been  greatly  petted  and  admired  by  both  Maria  and  her 
mother,  and  she  felt  the  slight  sensibly,  the  more  so,  as 
Carrie  darkly  hinted  that  girls  who  could  not  behave 
themselves  must  not  expect  to  associate  with  respectable 
people. 

"  'Leny  not  invited !  "  said  Mrs.  Nichols,  espousing  the 
cause  of  her  grandaughter.  "  What's  to  pay,  I  wonder 


MORE  CLOUDS.  337 

Miss   Fontaine  and  the  gineral,   too,  aJus   appeared  to 
think  a  sight  on  her." 

"  I  presume  the  general  does  now,"  answered  Mrs. 
Livingstone,  "  but  it's  natural  that  Mrs.  Fontaine  should 
feel  particular  about  the  reputation  of  her  daughter's 
associates." 

"  And  ain't  'Leny's  reputation  as  good  as  the  best  on 
Jem,"  asked  Mrs.  Nichols,  her  shriveled  cheeks  glowing 
with  insulted  pride. 

"  It's  the  general  opinion  that  it  might  be  improved," 
was  Mrs.  Livingstone's  haughty  answer,  as  she  left  her 
mother-in-law  to  her  own  reflections. 

"  It'll  kill  her  stone  dead,"  thought  Mrs.  Nichols,  revolv 
ing  in  her  own  mind  the  propriety  of  telling  'Lena  what 
her  aunt  had  said.  "  It'll  kill  her  stone  dead,  and  I  can't 
tell  her.  Mebby  it'll  blow  over  pretty  soon." 

That  afternoon  several  ladies,  who  were  in  the  habit  of 
calling  upon  'Lena,  came  to  Maple  Grove,  but  not  one 
asked  for  her,  and  with  her  eyes  and  ears  now  sharpened, 
she  fancied  that  once,  as  she  was  passing  the  parlor  door, 
she  heard  her  own  name  coupled  with  that  of  Mr.  Gra 
ham.  A  startling  light  burst  upon  her,  and  staggering  to 
her  room,  she  threw  herself,  half  fainting,  upon  the  bed, 
where  an  hour  afterward  she  was  found  by  Aunt  Milly. 

The   old  negress  had  also  heard  the  story  in  its  most 
aggravated  form,  and  readily  divining  the  cause  of  'Lena's 
grief,  attempted  to  console  her,  telling  her  "not  to  mind' 
>»  kat   the   good-for-nothin'  critters  said ;  they  war  only 
mad  'cause  she's  so  much  handsomer  and  trimmer  built." 

"You  know,  then,"  said  'Lena,  lifting  her  head  from 
the  pillow.  "  You  know  what  it  is ;  so  tell  me,  for  I  shall 
die  if  I  remain  longer  in  suspense. 

"Lor'  bless  the  child,"  exclaimed  old  Milly,  "to  think 
O  22    " 


338  'LENA   RIVERS. 

she's  the  very  last  one  to  know,  when  it's  been  common 
talk  more  than  a  month ! " 

"  What's  been  common  talk  ?  What  is  it  ?  "  demanded 
'Lena;  and  old  Milly,  seating  herself  upon  a  trunk,  com- 
menced:  "  Why,  honey,  haint  you  hearn  how  you  done 
got  Mr.  Graham's  pictur  and  gin  him  yourn  long  of  one 
of  them  curls— how  he's  writ  and  you've  writ,  and  how 
he's  gone  off  to  the  eends  of  the  airthto  git  rid  on  you— 
and  how  you  try  to  cotch  young  Mas'r  Durward,  who 
hate  the  sight  on  you— how  you  waylay  him  one  day,  set- 
tin'  on  a  rock  out  by  the  big  gate— and  how  you  been 
seen  mighty  nigh  fifty  times  comin'  home  a  foot  from  Cap 
tain  Atherton's  in  the  night,  rainin'  thunder  and  lightnin' 
hard  as  it  could  pour— how  after  you  done  got  Miss  Anna 
to  'lope,  you  ax  Captain  Atherton  to  have  you,  and  git 
mad  as  fury  'cause  he  'fuses— and  how  your  mother  warn't 
none  too  likely,  and  a  heap  more  that  I  can't  remember— 
hain't  you  heard  of  none  on't  ?  " 

"  None,  none,"  answered  'Lena,  while  Milly  continued : 
"It's  a  sin  and  shame  for  quality  folks  that  belong  to  the 
mcetin'  to  pitch  into  a  poor  'fenseless  girl  and  pick  her  all 
to  pieces.  Reckon 'they  done  forgot  what  our  Ileabenly 
Marster  told  'em  when  he  lived  here  in  old  Kentuck,  how 
they  must  dig  the  truck  out  of  thar  own  eyes  afore  they 
o-o  to  meddlin'  with  others;  but  they  never  think  of  him 
these  days,  'cept  Sundays,  and  then  as  soon  as  meetin'  is 
out,  they  done  git  together  and  talk  about  you  and  Mas'r 
Graham  orfully.  I  hearn  'em  last  Sunday,  I  and  Miss 
Fontaine's  cook,  Cilly,  and  if  they  don't  quit  it,  thar's  a 
heap  on  us  goin'  to  leave  the  church !  " 

'Lena  smiled  in  spite  of  herself,  and  when  Milly,  who 
arose  to  leave  the  room,  again  told  her  not  to  care,  as  all 
the  blacks  were  for  her,  she  felt  that  she  was  not  utterly 
alone  in  her  wretchedness.  Still,  the  sympathy  of  the 


1      •¥ 


MOKE    CLOUDS.  339 

colored  people  alone  could  not  help  her,  and  daily  matters 
grew  worse,  until  at  last  even  Nellie  Douglass'  faith  was 
shaken,  and  'Lena's  heart  died  within  her  as  she  saw  in  her 
signs  of  neglect.  Never  had  Mr.  Livingstone  exchanged 
a  word  with  her  upon  the  subject,  but  the  reserve  with 
which  he  treated  her  plainly  indicated  that  he,  too,  was 
prejudiced,  while  her  aunt  and  Carrie  let  no  opportunity 
pass  of  slighting  her,  the  latter  invariably  leaving  the 
room  if  she  entered  it.  On  one  such  occasion,  in  a  state 
bordering  almost  on  distraction,  'Lena  flew  back  to  her 
own  chamber,  where  to  her  great  surprise,  she  found  her 
uncle  in  close  conversation  with  her  grandmother,  whose 
face  told  the  pain  his  words  were  inflicting.  'Lena's  first 
impulse  was  to  fall  at  his  feet  and  implore  Ms  protection,  - 
but  he  prevented  her  by  immediately  leaving  the  room. 

"  Oh,  grandmother,  grandmother,"  she  cried,  "  help  me 
or  I  shall  die." 

In  her  heart  Mrs.  Nichols  believed  her  guilty,  for  John 
had  said  so — he  would  not  lie ;  and  to  'Lena's  touching 
appeal  for  sympathy,  she  replied,  as  she  rocked  to  and  fro, 
"  I  wish  you  had  died,  'Leny,  years  and  years  ago." 

'T  was  the  last  drop  in  the  brimming  bucket,  and  with 
the  wailing  cry,  "  God  help  me  now — no  one  else  can," 
the  heart-broken  girl  fell  fainting  to  the  floor,  while  in  si 
lent  agony  Mrs.  Nichols  hung  over  her,  shouting  for  help. 

Both  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie  refused  to  come,  but 
at  the  first  call  Aunt  Milly  hastened  to  the  room.  "  Poor 
sheared  lamb,"  said  she,  gathering  back  the  thick,  clus 
tering  curls  which  shaded  'Lena's  marble  face,  "  she's  in- 
nocent  as  the  new-born  baby." 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  think  so,"  said  grandma ;  but  she  could 
not,  and  when  the  soft  brown  eyes  again  unclosed,  and 
eagerly  sought  hers,  they  read  distrust  and  doubt,  and 


340  'LENA   RIVERS. 

motioning  her  grandmother  away,  'Lena  said  she  would 
rather  be  alone. 

Many  and  bitter  were  the  thoughts  which  crowded 
upon  her  as  she  lay  there  watching  the  daylight  fade  from 
the  distant  hills,  and  musing  of  the  stern  realities  around 
her.  Gradually  her  thoughts  assumed  a  definite  purpose ; 
she  would  go  away  from  a  place  where  she  was  never 
wanted,  and  where  she  now  no  longer  wished  to  stay. 
Mr.  Everett  had  promised  to  be  her  friend,  and  to  him 
she  would  go.  At  different  intervals  her  uncle  and  cousin 
had  given  her  money  to  the  amount  of  twenty  dollars, 
which  was  still  in  her  possession,  and  which  she  knew 
would  take  her  far  on  her  road. 

With  'Lena  to  resolve  was  to  do,  and  that  night,  when 
sure  her  grandmother  was  asleep,  she  arose  and  hurriedly 
made  the  needful  preparations  for  her  flight.  Unlike  most 
aged  people,  Mrs.  Nichols  slept  soundly,  and  'Lena  had 
no  fears  of  waking  her.  Very  stealthily  she  moved  around 
the  room,  placing  in  a  sachel,  which  she  could  carry  upon 
her  arm,  the  few  things  she  would  need.  Then,  sitting 
down  by  the  table,  she  wrote  : 

"DEAR  GRANDMA:  When  you  read  this  I  shall  be 
gone,  for  I  cannot  longer  stay  where  all  look  upon  me  as 
a  wretched,  guilty  thing.  I  am  innocent,  grandma,  as  in 
nocent  as  my  angel  mother  when  they  dared  to  slander 
her,  but  you  do  not  believe  it,  and  that  is  the  hardest  of 
all.  I  could  have  borne  the  rest,  but  when  you,  too, 
doubted  me,  it  broke  my  heart,  and  now  I  am  going  away. 
Nobody  will  care— nobody  will  miss  me  but  you. 

"  And  now  dear,  dear  grandma,  it  costs  me  more  pain 
to  write  than  it  will  you  to  read 

"  'LENA'S  LAST   GoOD-BY." 


MORE   CLOUDS.  341 

All  was  at  length  ready,  and  then  bending  gently  over 
the  wrinkled  face  so  calmly  sleeping,  'Lena  gazed  through 
blinding  tears  upon  each  lineament,  striving  to  imprint  it 
upon  her  heart's  memory,  and  wondering  if  they  would 
ever  meet  again.  The  hand  which  had  so  often  rested 
caressingly  upon  her  young  head,  was  lying  outside  the 
counterpane,  and  with  one  burning  kiss  upon  it  she  turned 
away,  first  placing  the  lamp  by  the  window,  where  its 
light,  shining  upon  her  from  afar,  would  be  the  last  thing 
she  could  see  of  the  home  she  was  leaving. 

The  road  to  Midway,  the  nearest  railway  station,  was 
well  known  to  her,  and  without  once  pausing,  lest  her 
courage  should  fail  her,  she  pressed  forward.  The  dis 
tance  which  she  had  to  travel  was  about  three  and  a  half 
miles,  and  as  she  did  not  dare  trust  herself  in  the  high 
way,  she  struck  into  the  fields,  looking  back  as  long  as  the 
glimmering  light  from  the  window  could  be  seen,  and  then 
when  that  home  star  had  disappeared  from  view,  silently 
imploring  aid  from  Him  who  alone  could  help  her  now. 
She  was  in  tune  for  the  cars,  and  though  the  depot  agent 
looked  curiously  at  her  slight,  shrinking  figure,  he  asked 
no  questions,  and  when  the  train  moved  rapidly  away, 
'Lena  looked  out  upon  the  dark,  still  night,  and  felt  that 
she  was  a  wanderer  in  the  world. 


842  'LENA  RIVERS. 

CHAPTER  XXXH. 

REACTION. 

THE  light  of  a  dark,  cloudy  morning  shone  faintly  in  at 
the  window  of  Grandma  Nichols'  room,  and  roused  her 
from  her  slumber.  On  the  pillow  beside  her  rested  no 
youthful  head — there  was  no  kind  voice  bidding  her 
"  good  morrow" — no  gentle  hand  ministering  to  her  com 
fort — for  'Lena  was  gone,  and  on  the  table  lay  the  note, 
which  at  first  escaped  Mrs.  Nichols'  attention.  Thinking 
her  granddaughter  had  arisen  early  and  gone  before  her, 
she  attempted  to  make  her  own  toilet,  which  Was  nearly 
completed,  when  her  eye  caught  the  note.  It  was  direct 
ed  to  her,  and  with  a  dim  foreboding  she  took  it  up,  read 
ing  that  her  child  was  gone — gone  from  those  who  should 
have  sustained  her  in  her  hour  of  trial,  but  who,  instead, 
turned  against  her,  crushing  her  down,  until  in  a  state  of 
desperation  she  had  fled.  It  was  hi  vain  that  the  break 
fast-bell  rang  out  its  loud  summons.  Grandma  did  not 
heed  it;  and  when  Corinda  came  up  to  seek  her,  she  start 
ed  back  in  affright  at  the  scene  before  her.  Mrs.  Nichols' 
cap  was  not  yet  on,  and  her  thin  gray  locks  fell  around 
her  livid  face  as  she  swayed  from  side  to  side,  moaning  at 
intervals,  "  God  forgive  me  that  I  broke  her  heart." 

The  sound  of  the  opening  door  aroused  her,  and  look 
ing  up  she  said,  pointing  toward  the  vacant  bed,  "  Leny'a 
gone ;  I've  killed  her." 

Corinda  waited  for  no  more,  but  darting  through  the 

hall  and  down. the  stairs,  she  rushed  into  the  dining-room, 

announcing  the  startling  news  that  "  old  miss  had  done 

«nurdered  Miss  'Lena,  and  hid  her  under  the  bed ! " 

"  What  will  come  next ! "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Livingstone, 


REACTION.  345 

following  her  husband  to  his  mother's  room,  where  a  mo 
ment  sufficed  to  explain  the  whole. 

'Lena  was  gone,  and  the  shock  had  for  a  time  unsettled 
the  poor  old  lady's  reason.  The  sight  of  his  mother's  dis 
tress  aroused  ah1  the  better  nature  of  Mr.  Livingstone, 

e> 

and  tenderly  soothing  her,  he  told  her  that  'Lena  should 
be  found — he  would  go  for  her  himself.  Carrie,  too,  was 
touched,  and  with  unwonted  kindness  she  gathered  up 
the  scattered  locks,  and  tying  on  the  muslin  cap,  placed 
her  hand  for  an  instant  on  the  wrinkled  brow. 

"  Keep  it  there ;  it  feels  soft,  like  'Leny's,"  said  Mrs. 
Nichols,  the  tears  gushing  out  at  this  little  act  of 
sympathy. 

Meantime,  Mr.  Livingstone,  after  a  short  consultation 
with  his  wife,  hurried  off  to  the  neighbors,  none  of  whom 
knew  aught  of  the  fdgitive,  and  all  of  whom  offered  their 
assistance  in  searching.  Never  once  did  it  occur  to  Mr. 
Livingstone  that  she  might  have  taken  the  cars,  for  that 
he  knew  would  need  money,  and  he  supposed  she  had 
none  in  her  possession.  By  a  strange  coincidence,  too, 
the  depot  agent  who  sold  her  the  ticket,  left  the  very  next 
morning  for  Indiana,  where  he  had  been  intending  to  go 
for  some  time,  and  where  he  remained  for  more  than  a 
•vvi-ek,  thus  preventing  the  information  which  he  could 
otherwise  have  given  concerning  her  flight.  Consequent 
ly,  Mr.  Livingstone  returned  each  night,  weary  and  dis 
heartened,  to  his  home,  where  all  the  day  long  his  mother 
moaned  and  wept,  asking  for  her  'Lena. 

At  last,  as  day  after  day  went  by  and  brought  no  ti 
dings  of  the  wanderer,  she  ceased  to  ask  for  her,  but 
whenever  a  stranger  came  to  the  house,  she  would  whis 
per  softly  to  them,  "  'Leny's  dead.  I  killed  her  ;  did  you 
know  it  ?  "  at  the  same  time  passing  to  them  the  crumpled 
note,  which  she  ever  held  in  her  hand, 


844  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

'Lena  was  a  general  favorite  in  the  neighborhood  which 
had  so  recently  denounced  her,  and  when  it  became  known 
that  she  was  gone,  there  came  a  reaction,  and  those  who 
had  been  the  most  bitter  against  her  now  changed  their 
opinion,  wondering  how  they  could  ever  have  thought  her 
guilty.  The  stories  concerning  her  visits  to  Captain  Ath- 
erton's  were  traced  back  to  their  source,  resulting  in  ex 
onerating  her  from  all  blame,  while  many  things,  hitherto 
kept  secret,  concerning  Anna's  engagement,  were  brought 
to  light,  and  'Lena  was  universally  commended  for  her  ef 
forts  to  save  her  cousin  from  a  marriage  so  wholly  unnat 
ural.  Severely  was  the  captain  censured  for  the  part  he 
had  taken  in  deceiving  Anna,  a  part  which  he  frankly  con 
fessed,  while  he  openly  espoused  the  cause  of  the  fugitive. 

Mrs.  Livingstone,  on  the  contrary,  was  not  generous 
enough  to  make  a  like  confession.  Public  suspicion  point 
ed  to  her  as  the  intercepter  of  Anna's  letters,  and  though 
she  did  not  deny  it,  she  wondered  what  that  had  to  do 
with  'Lena,  at  the  same  time  asking  "  how  they  expected 
to  clear  up  the  Graham  affair." 

This  was  comparatively  easy,  for  in  the  present  state  of 
feeling  the  neighborhood  were  willing  to  overlook  many 
things  which  had  before  seemed  dark  and  mysterious, 
while  Mrs.  Graham,  for  some  most  unaccountable  reason, 
suddenly  retracted  almost  everything  she  had  said,  ac 
knowledging  that  she  was  too  hasty  in  her  conclusions, 
and  evincing  for  the  missing  girl  a  degree  of  interest  per 
fectly  surprising  to  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  looked  on  in 
utter  astonishment,  wondering  what  the  end  would  be. 
About  this  time  Durward  returned,  greatly  pained  at  the 
existing  state  of  things.  In  Frankfort,  where  'Lena's 
flight  was  a  topic  of  discussion,  he  had  met  with  the  de- 
pot  agent,  who  was  on  his  way  home,  and  who  spoke  of 
the  young  girl  whose  rather  singular  manner  had  attract- 


REACTION.  345 

ed  his  attention.  This  was  undoubtedly  'Lena,  and  after 
a  few  moments'  conversation  with  his  mother,  Durward 
announced  his  intention  of  g<  ing  after  her,  at  least  as  far 
as  Rockford,  where  he  fancied  she  might  have  gone. 

To  his  surprise  his  mother  made  no  objection,  but  her 
manner  seemed  so  strange  that  he  at  last  asked  what  was 
the  matter. 

"  Nothing — nothing  in  particular,"  said  she,  "  only  I've 
been  thinking  it  all  over  lately,  and  I've  come  to  the  con- 
elusion  that  perhaps  'Lena  is  innocent  after  all." 

Oh,  how  eagerly  Durward  caught  at  her  words,  inter 
rupting  her  almost  before  she  had  finished  speaking,  with, 
"  Do  you  know  anything  ?  Have  you  heard  anything ! " 

She  had  heard — she  did  know ;  but  ere  she  could  re 
ply,  the  violent  ringing  of  the  door-bell,  and  the  arrival 
of  visitors,  prevented  her  answer.  In  a  perfect  fever  of 
excitement  Durward  glailced  at  his  watch.  If  he  waited 
long,  he  would  be  too  late  for  the  cars,  and  with  a  hasty 
adieu  he  left  the  parlor,  turning  back  ere  he  reached  the 
outer  door,  and  'telling  his  mother  he  must  speak  with  her 
alone.  If  Mrs.  Graham  had  at  first  intended  to  divulge 
what  she  knew,  the  impulse  was  now  gone,  and  to  her 
son's  urgent  request  that  she  should  disclose  what  she 
knew,  she  replied,  "  It  isn't  much— only  your  father  has 
another  daguerreotype,  the  counterpart  of  the  first  one. 
He  procured  it  in  Cincinnati,  and  'Lena  I  know  was  not 
there." 

"  Is  that  all  ?  "  asked  Durward,  in  a  disappointed  tone. 

"  Why,  no,  not  exactly.  I  have  examined  both  pic 
tures  closely,  and  I  do  not  think  they  resemble  'Lena  as 
much  as  we  at  first  supposed.  Possibly  it  might  have 
been  some  one  else,  her  mother,  may  be,"  and  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  looked  earnestly  at  her  son,  whc  rather  impatiently 
answered,  "  Her  mother  died  years  ago." 
O* 


848  'LENA  RIVERS. 

At  the  same  time  he  walked  away,  pondering  upon  what 
he  had  heard,  and  hoping,  half  believing,  that  'Lena  vrould 
yet  be  exonerated  from  all  blame.  For  a  moment  Mrs. 
Graham  gazed  after  him,  regretting  that  she  had  not  told 
him  all,  but  thinking  there  was  time  enough  yet,  and  re 
membering  that  her  husband  had  said  she  might  w?it  un 
til  his  return,  if  she  chose,  she  went  back  to  the  parlor, 
while  Durward  kept  on  his  way. 


CHAPTER  XXXHL 

THE    WANDERER. 

FIERCELY  the  noontide  blaze  of  a  scorching  July  sun 
was  falling  upon  the  huge  walls  of  the  "  Laurel  Hill  Sun," 
where  a  group  of  idlers  were  lounging  on  the  long,  nar 
row  piazza,  some  niching  into  still  more  grotesque  carv 
ing  the  rude,  unpainted  railing,  while  others,  half  recli 
ning  on  one  elbow,  shaded  their  eyes  with  their  old 
slouched  hats,  as  they  gazed  wistfully  toward  the  long 
hill,  eager  to  catch  the  first  sight  of  the  daily  stage  which 
was  momentarily  expected. 

"  Jerry  is  late,  to-day — but  it's  so  plaguy  hot  he's  fa- 
voi.n'  his  hosses,  I  guess,"  said  the  rosy-faced  landlord, 
with  that  peculiar  intonation  which  stamped  him  at  once 
a  genuine  Yankee. 

"  A  watched  pot  never  biles,"  muttered  one  of  the 
loungers,  who  regularly  for  fifteen  years  had  been  at  his 
post,  waiting  for  the  stage,  which  during  all  that  time  had 
brought  him  neither  letter,  message,  friend,  nor  foe. 

But  force  of  habit  is  everything,  and  after  the  very 


THE  WANDERER.  347 

wise  saying  recorded  above,  he  resumed  his  whittling, 
never  again  looking  up  until  the  Icud  blast  of  the  dri 
ver's  horn  was  heard  on  the  distant  hill -top,  where  the 
four  weary,  jaded  horses  were  now  visible.  It  was  the 
driver's  usual  custom  to  blow  his  horn  from  the  moment 
he  appeared  on  the  hill,  until  with  a  grand  nourish  he 
reined  his  panting  steeds  before  the  door  of  the  inn.  But 
this  tune  there  was  one  sharp,  shrill  sound,  and  then  all 
was  still,  the  omission  eliciting  several  remarks  not  very 
complimentary  to  the  weather,  which  was  probably  the 
cause  of  "  Jerry's  "  unwonted  silence.  Very  slowly  the 
vehicle  came  on,  the  horses  never  leaving  a  walk,  and  the 
idler  of  fifteen  years'  standing,  who  for  a  time  had  sus 
pended  his  whittling,  "  Wondered  what  was  to  pay." 

A  nearer  approach  revealed  three  or  four  male  passen 
gers,  all  occupied  with  a  young  lady,  who,  on  the  back 
seat,  was  carefully  supported  by  one  of  her  companions. 

"A  sick  gal,  I  guess.  Wonder  if  the  disease  is  catch- 
in'?"  said  the  whittler,  standing  back  several  paces  and 
looking  over  the  heads  of  the  others,  who  crowded  for 
ward  as  the  stage  came  up.  The  loud  greeting  of  the 
noisy  group  was  answered  by  Jerry  with  a  low  "  sh— sh," 
as  he  pointed  significantly  at  the  slight  form  which  two  of 
the  gentlemen  were  lifting  from  the  coach,  asking  at  the 
same  time  if  there  were  a  physician  near. 

"  What's  the  matter  on  her  ?  Hain't  got  the  cholery, 
lias  she,"  said  the  landlord,  who,  having  hallooed  to  his 
wife  to  "fetch  up  her  vittles,"  now  appeared  on  the  pi 
azza  ready  to  welcome  his  guests. 

At  the  first  mention  of  cholera,  the  fifteen  years'  man 
vamosed,  retreating  across  the  road,  and  seating  himself 
on  the  fence  under  the  shadow  of  the  locust  trees. 

"Who  is  she,  Jerry?"  asked  the  younger  of  the  set, 
gazing  curiously  upon  the  white,  beautiful  face  of  the 


348  'LENA    RIVERS. 

stranger,  who  Lad  been  laid  upon  the  lounge  hi  the  com- 
mon  sitting-room. 

"  Lord  only  knows,"  said  Jerry,  wiping  the  heavy  drops 
of  sweat  from  his  good-humored  face  ;  "I  found  her  at  the 
hotel  in  Livony.  She  came  there  in  the  cars,  and  said  she 
wanted  to  go  over  to  'tother  railroad.  She  was  so  weak 
that  I  had  to  lift  her  into  the  stage  as  I  would  a  baby,  and 
she  ain't  much  heavier.  You  orto  seen  how  sweet  she  smiled 
when  she  thanked  me,  and  asked  me  not  to  drive  very 
fast,  it  made  her  head  ache  so.  Zounds,  I  wouldn't  of 
trotted  the  horses  if  I'd  never  got  here.  Jest  after  we 
started  she  fainted,  and  she's  been  kinder  talkin'  strange- 
like  ever  since.  Some  of  the  gentlemen  thought  I'd  bet 
ter  leave  her  back  a  piece  at  Brown's  tavern,  but  I  want 
ed  to  fetch  her  here,  where  Aunt  Betsy  could  nuss  her  up, 
and  then  I  can  kinder  tend  to  her  myself,  you  know." 

This  last  remark  called  forth  no  answering  joke,  for 
Jerry's  companions  all  knew  his  kindly  nature,  and  it  was 
no  wonder  to  them  that  his  sympathies  were  so  strongly 
enlisted  for  the  fair  girl  thus  thrown  upon  his  protection. 
It  was  a  big,  noble  heart  over  which  Jerry  Langley  but 
toned  his  driver's  coat,  and  when  the  physician  who  had 
arrived  pronounced  the  lady  too  ill  to  proceed  any  fur 
ther,  he  called  aside  the  fidgety  landlord,  whose  peculiari 
ties  he  well  knew,  and  bade  him  "  not  to  fret  and  stew, 
for  if  the  gal  hadn't  money,  Jerry  Langley  was  good  for 
a  longer  time  than  she  would  live,  poor  critter ; "  and  he 
wiped  a  tear  away,  glancing,  the  while,  at  the  burying- 
ground  which  lay  just  across  the  garden,  and  thinking 
how  if  she  died,  her  grave  should  be  beneath  the  wide- 
spreading  oak,  where  often  in  the  summer  nights  he  sat, 
counting  the  head-stones  which  marked  the  last  resting- 
place  of  the  slumbering  host,  and  wondering  if  deatb 
were,  as  some  had  said,  a  long,  eternal  sleep. 


THE  WANDERER.  849 

Aunt  Betsey,  of  whom  he  had  spoken,  was  the  land 
lady,  a  little  dumpy,  pleasant-faced,  active  Tvoman,  equally 
hi  her  element  bending  over  the  steaming  gridiron,  or 
smoothing  the  pillows  of  the  sick-bed,  where  her  powers 
of  nursing  had  won  golden  laurels  from  others  than  Jerry 
Langley.  When  the  news  was  brought  to  the  kitchen 
that  among  the  passengers  was  a  sick  girl,  who  was  to  be 
left,  her  first  thought,  natural  to  everybody,  was,  "  What 
shall  I  do  ?  "  while  the  second,  natural  to  her,  was,  "  Tako 
care  of  her,  of  course." 

Accordingly,  when  the  dinner  was  upon  the  table,  she 
laid  aside  her  broad  check  apron,  substituting  in  its  place 
a  half-worn  silk,  for  Jerry  had  reported  the  invalid  to  be 
"  every  inch  a  lady ; "  then  smoothing  her  soft,  silvery 
hair  with  her  fat,  rosy  hands,  she  repaired  to  the  sitting- 
room,  where  she  found  the  driver  watching  his  charge, 
from  whom  he  kept  the  buzzing  flies  by  means  of  his  ban 
dana,  which  he  waved  to  and  fro  with  untiring  patience. 

"  Handsome"  as  a  London  doll,"  was  her  first  exclama 
tion,  adding,  "  but  I  should  think  she'd  be  awful  hot  with 
them  curls,  danglin'  in  her  neck !  If  she's  goin'  to  be  sick, 
they'd  better  be  cut  off!  » 

If  there  was  any  one  thing  for  which  Aunt  Betsey  Al- 
dergrass  possessed  a  particular  passion,  it  was  for  hair- 
cutting,  she  being  barber  general  for  Laurel  Hill,  which 
numbered  about  thirty  houses,  store  and  church  in- 
elusive,  and  now  when  she  saw  the  shining  tresses  which 
lay  in  such  profusion  upon  the  pillow,  her  fingers  tingled 
to  their  very  tips,  while  she  involuntarily  felt  for  her  scis 
sors  !  Very  reverentially,  as  if  it  were  almost  sacrilege, 
Jerry's  broad  palm  was  laid  protectingly  upon  the  cluster 
ing  ringlets,  while  he  said,  "  No,  Aunt  Betsey,  if  she  dies 
for't,  you  shant  touch  one  of  them;  'twould  spile  her,  and 
abe  looks  so  pretty." 


550  'LENA   RIVERS. 

Slowly  the  long,  fringed  lids  unclosed,  and  the  brown 
eyes  looked  up  so  gratefully  at  Jerry,  that  he  beat  a  pre 
cipitate  retreat,  muttering  to  himself  that  "he  never 
could  stand  the  gals,  anyway,  they  made  his  heart  thump 

BO!» 

"  Am  I  very  sick,  and  can't  I  go  on  !  "  asked  the  young 
lady,  attempting  to  rise,  but  sinking  back  from  extreme 
weakness. 

"  Considerable  sick,  I  guess,"  answered  the  landlady, 
taking  from  a  side  cupboard  an  immense  decanter  of  cam 
phor,  and  passing  it  toward  the  stranger.  "  Considerable 
sick,  and  I  wouldn't  wonder  if  you  had  to  lay  by  a  day  or 
so.  Will  they  be  consarned  about  you  to  home,  'cause  if 
thej  be,  my  old  man'll  write. 

"  I  have  no  home,"  was  the  sad  answer,  to  which  Aunt 
Betsey  responded  in  astonishment,  "Hain't  no  home! 
Where  does  your  marm  live  ?  " 

"  Mother  is  dead,"  said  the  girl,  her  tears  dropping 
fast  upon  the  pillow. 

Instinctively  the  landlady  drew  nearer  to  her,  as  she 
asked,  "  And  your  pa — where  is  he  ?  " 

"  I  never  saw  him,"  said  the  girl,  while  her  interrogator 
continued  :  "  Never  saw  your  pa,  and  your  marm  is  dead 
— poor  child  what  is  your  name,  and  where  did  you  come 
from  ?  » 

For  a  moment  the  stranger  hesitated,  and  then  think 
ing  it  better  to  tell  the  truth  at  once,  she  replied,  "My 
name  is  'Lena.  I  lived  with  my  uncle  a  great  many  miles 
from  here,  but  I  wasn't  happy.  They  did  not  want  me 
there,  and  I  ran  away.  I  am  going  to  my  cousin,  but  I'd 
rather  not  tell  where,  so  you  will  please  not  ask  me." 

There  was  something  in  her  manner  which  silenced 
Aunt  Betsey,  who,  erelong,  proposed  that  she  should  go 
up  stairs  and  lie  down  on  a  nice  little  bed,  where  sha 


THE  WANDERER.  35  j 

would,  be  more  quiet.     But  'Lena  refused,  saying   she 
should  feel  better  soon. 

"  Mebby,  then,  you'd  eat  a  mouffle  or  two.  We've  got 
some  roasted  pork,  and  Hetty'll  warm  over  the  gravy  •  » 
bat  'Lena's  stomach  rebelled  at  the  very  thought,  seein«- 
which,  the  landlady  went  back  to  the  kitchen,  where  she 
soon  prepared  a  bowl  of  gruel,  in  spite  of  the  discour, 

gmg  remarks  of  her  husband,  who,  being  a  little  after 
the  Old  Hunks  order,  cautioned  her  "not  to  fuss  too 
much,  as  gals  that  run  away  warn't  apt  to  be  placed  with 
money." 

Fortunately,  Aunt  Betsey's  heart  covered  a  broader 
sphere,  and  the  moment  the  stage  was  gone  she  closed  the 
door  to  shut  out  the  dust,  dropped  the  green  curtains, 
drawing  from  the  spare-room  a  large,  stuffed  chair, 
ade  'Lena  «  see  if  she  couldn't  set  up  a  minit."     But  this 
was  impossible,  and  all  that  long,  sultry  afternoon  she  lay 
upon  the  lounge,  holding  her  aching  head,  which  seemed 
well-nigh  bursting  with  its  weight  of  pain  and  thought 
"Was  it  right  for  her  to  run  away?     Ought  she  not  to 
have  staid  and  bravely  met  the  worst?    Suppose  she  were 
to  die  there  alone,  among  strangers  and  without  money, 
for  her  scanty  purse  was  well-nigh  drained."    These  and 
similar  reflections  crowded  upon  her,  until  her  brain  grew 
wild  and  dizzy,  and  when  at  sunset  the  physician  came 
again,  he  was  surprised  to  find  how  much  her  fever  had 
increased.  t 

"  She  ought  not  to  lie  here,''  said  he,  as  he  saw  how  the 
loud  shouts  of  the  school-boys  made  her  shudder.  "  Isn't 
there  some  place  where  she  can  be  more  quiet  ?  " 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  was  a  small  room,  containing 
a  single  bed  and  window,  which  last  looked  out  upon  the 
garden  and  the  graveyard  beyond.  Its  furniture  was  of 
U  e  plainest  kind,  it  being  reserved  for  more  common  trav 


352  'LENA    RIVERS. 

elers,  and  here  the  landlord  said  'Lent,  must  be  take'. 
His  wife  would  far  rather  have  given  her  the  front  ca-m 
ber,  which  was  large,  airy  and  light,  but  Uncle  T!LI  Al- 
dergrass  said  "No,"  squealing  out  tl/ough  l-.L  little 
peaked  nose  that  "'twarn't  an  atom  like!/ he'd  ev^  more'n 
half  git  his  pay,  anyway,  and  he  warn't  *  goin9  +*  give  up 
the  hull  house." 

"  How  much  more  will  it  be  if  she  has  the  best  cham 
ber,"  asked  Jerry,  pulling  at  Uncle's  Tim'fl  ^oat-tail  and 
leading  him  aside.  "  How  much  will  it  be,  'cause  if  'taint 
too  much,  she  shan't  stay  in  that  eight  by  nine  pen." 

"A  dollar  a  week,  and  cheap  at  that,"  muttered  Uncle 
Tim,  while  Jerry,  going  out  behind  the  wood-house,  count- 
ed  over  his  funds,  sighing  as  he  found  them  quite  too  small 
to  meet  the  extra  dollar  per  week,  should  she  long  con- 

tinue  ill. 

"  If  I  hadn't  of  fooled  so  much  .way  for  tobacker  and 
things,  I  shouldn't  be  so  plaguy  poor  now,"  thought  he, 
forgetting  the  many  hearts  which  his  hard-earned  gains 
had  made  glad,  for  no  one  ever  appealed  in  vain  for  help 
from  Jerry  Langley,  who  represented  one  class  of  Yan 
kees,  while  Timothy  Aldergrass  represented  another. 

The  next  morning  just  as  daylight  was  beginning  to  bo 
visible,  Jerry  knocked  softly  at  Aunt  Betsey's  door,  tell 
ing  her  that  for  more  than  an  hour  he'd  heard  the  young 
lady  takin'  on,  and  he  guessed  she  was  worse.  Hastily 
throwing  on  her  loose-gown  Aunt  Betsey  repaired  to  'Le 
na's  room,  where  she  found  her  sitting  up  in  the  bed, 
moaning,  talking,  and  whispering,  while  the  wild  expres^ 
Bion  of  her  eyes  betokened  a  disordered  brain. 

"  The  Lord  help  us !  she's  crazy  as  a  loon.  Run  for  the 
doctor  quick  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  and  without 
boot  or  shoe,  Jerry  ran  off  in  his  stocking-feet,  alarming 
the  physician,  who  immediately  hastened  to  tho  inn,  pro- 


THE  WANDERER.  353 

nouncing  'Lena's  disease  to  be  brain  fever,  as  he  bad  at 
first  feared. 

Rapidly  sbe  grew  worse,  talking  of  her  home,  which 
was  sometimes  in  Kentucky  and  sometimes  in  Massachu 
setts,  where  she  said  they  had  buried  her  mother.  At 
other  times  she  would  ask  Aunt  Betsey  to  send  for  Dur- 
ward  when  she  was  dead,  and  tell  him  how  innocent  she 
was. 

"  Didn't  I  tell  you  there  was  something  wrong  ?  "  Un 
cle  Timothy  would  squeak.  "Nobody  knows  who  we 
are  harborin'  nor  how  much  'twill  damage  the  house." 

But  as  day  after  day  went  by,  and  'Lena's  fever  raged 
more  fiercely,  even  Uncle  Tun  relented,  and  when  she 
would  bog  of  them  to  take  her  home  and  bury  her  by  the 
side  of  Mabel,  where  Durward  could  see  her  grave,  he 
would  sigh,  "  Poor  critter,  I  wish  you  was  to  home,"  but 
whether  this  wish  was  prompted  by  a  sincere  desire  to 
please  'Lena,  or  from  a  more  selfish  motive,  we  are  unable 
to  state.  One  morning,  the  fifth  of  'Lena's  illness,  she 
seemed  much  worse,  talking  incessantly  and  tossing  from 
side  to  side,  her  long  hair  floating  in  wild  Disorder  over 
her  pillow,  or  streaming  down  her  shoulders.  Hitherto 
Aunt  Betsey  had  restrained  her  barberic  desire,  each  day 
arranging  the  heavy  locks,  and  tucking  them  under  the 
muslin  cap,  where  they  refused  to  stay.  Once  the  doctor 
himself  had  suggested  the  propriety  of  cutting  them 
away,  adding,  though,  that  they  would  wait  awhile,  as  it 
was  a  pity  to  lose  them. 

"Better  be  cut  off  than  yanked  off,"  said  Aunt  Betsey, 
on  the  morning  when  'Lena  in  her  frenzy  would  occasion 
ally  tear  out  handfulls  of  her  shining  hair  and  scatter  it 
over  the  floor. 

Satisfied  that  she  was  doing  right,  she  carefully  ap 
proached  the  bedside,  and  taking  one  of  the  curls  in  her 

23 


354  'LENA  RIVERS. 

hand,  was  about  to  sever  it,  when  'Lena,  divining  her  in. 
tentions,  sprang  up,  and  gathering  up  her  hair,  exclaimed, 
"  No,  no,  not  these  ;  take  everything  else,  but  leave  me 
my  curls.  Durward  thought  they  were  beautiful,  and  I 
cannot  lose  them." 

At  the  side  door  below,  the  noonday  stage  was  unload 
ing  its  passengers,  and  as  the  tones  of  their  voices  came 
in  at  the  open  window,  'Lena  suddenly  grew  calmer,  and 
assuming  a  listening  attitude,  whispered,  "  Hark !  He's 
come.  Don't  you  hear  him  ?  " 

But  Aunt  Betsey  heard  nothing,  except  her  husband 
calling  her  to  come  down,  and  leaving  'Lena,  who  had 
almost  instantly  become  quiet,  to  the  care  of  a  neighbor, 
she  started  for  the  kitchen,  meeting  in  the  lower  hall  with 
Hetty,  who  was  showing  one  of  the  passengers  to  a  room 
where  he  could  wash  and  refresh  himself  after  his  dusty 
ride.  As  they  passed  each  other,  Hetty  asked,  "Have 
you  clipped  her  curls !  " 

"  No,"  answered  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  "  she  wouldn't  let 
me  touch  'em,  for  she  said  that  Durward,  whom  she  talks 
so  much  about,  liked  'em,  and  they  mustn't  be  cut  off." 

Instantly  the  stranger,  whose  elegant  appearance  both 
Hetty  and  her  mistress  had  been  admiring,  stopped,  and 
turning  to  the  latter,  said,  "  Of  whom  are  you  speaking  ?  " 

"  Of  a  young  girl  that  came  in  the  stage,  sick,  five  or 
six  days  ago,"  answered  Mrs.  Aldergrass. 

"  What  is  her  name,  and  where  does  she  live  ?  "  con 
tinued  the  stranger. 

"  She  calls  herself  'Lena,  but  the  'tother  name  I  don't 
know,  and  I  guess  she  lives  in  Kentucky  or  Massachusetts." 

The  young  man  waited  to  hear  no  more,  but  mechani 
cally  followed  Hetty  to  his  room,  starting  and  turning 
pale  as  a  wild,  unnatural  laugh  fell  on  his  ear. 

"  It  is  the  young  lady,  sir,"  said  Hetty,  observing  lug 


THE  WANDERER.  355 

agitated  manner.     "  She  raves  most  all  the  time,  and  the 
doctor  says  she'll  die  if  sho  don't  stop." 
The  gentleman  nodded,  and  the  next  moment  he  was, 

as  he  wished  to  be,  alone.     He  had  found  her  then his 

lost  'Lena— sick,  perhaps  dying,  and  his  heart  gave  one 
agonized  throb  as  he  thought,  "  What  if  she  should  die  ? 
Yet  why  should  I  wish  her  to  live  ?  "  he  asked,  "  when 
she  is  as  surely  lost  to  me  as  if  she  were  indeed  resting  in 
her  grave ! " 

And  still,  reason  as  he  would,  a  something  told  him  that 
all  would  yet  be  well,  else,  perhaps,  he  had  never  followed 
her.  Believing  she  would  stop  at  Mr.  Everett's,  he  had 
come  on  thus  far,  finding  her  where  he  least  expected  it, 
and  spite  of  his  fears,  there  was  much  of  pleasure  mingled 
with  his  pain  as  he  thought  how  he  would  protect  and  care 
for  her,  ministering  to  her  comfort,  and  softening,  as  far 
as  possible,  the  disagreeable  things  which  he  saw  must 
necessarily  surround  her.  Money,  he  knew,  would  pur 
chase  almost  everything,  and  if  ever  Durward  Bellmont 
felt  glad  that  he  was  rich,  it  was  when  he  found  'Lena 
Rivers  sick  and  alone  at  the  not  very  comfortable  inn  of 
Laurel  Hill. 

As  he  was   entering  the  dining-room,  he  saw  Jerry 

u  hose  long,  lank  figure  and  original  manner  had  afforded 
him  much  amusement  during  his  ride — handing  a  dozen  or 
more  oranges  to  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  saying,  as  he  did  so, 
"  They  are  for  Miss  'Lena.  I  thought  mebby  they'd  taste 
good,  this  hot  wt'jither,  and  I  ransacked  the  hull  town  to 
mid  the  nicest  and  best." 

For  a  moment  Durward's  cheek  flushed  at  the  idea  of 
'Lena's  being  cared  for  by  such  as  Jerry,  but  the  next  in- 
slant  his  heart  grew  warm  toward  the  uncouth  driver, 
>vho,  without  any  possible  motive  save  the  promptings  of 
iiis  own  kindly  nature,  had  thus  thought  of  the  stranger 


350  LENA  RIVERS. 

girl.  Erelong  the  stage  was  announced  as  ready  anJ 
waiting,  but  to  the  surprise  and  regret  of  his  fellow-pas 
sengers,  who  had  found  him  a  most  agreeable  traveling 
companion,  Durward  said  he  was  not  going  any  further 
that  day. 

"  A  new  streak,  ain't  it  ?  "  asked  Jerry,  who  knew  he 
was  booked  for  the  entire  route;  but  the  young  man 
made  no  reply,  and  the  fresh,  spirited  horses  soon  bore  the 
lumbering  vehicle  far  out  of  sight,  leaving  him  to  watch 
the  cloud  of  dust  which  it  carried  in  its  train. 

Uncle  Timothy  was  in  his  element,  for  it  was  not  often 
that  a  guest  of  Durward's  appearance  honored  his  house 
with  more  than  a  passing  call,  and  with  the  familiarity  so 
common  to  a  country  landlord,  he  slapped  him  on  the 
shoulder,  telling  him  "  there  was  the  tallest  kind  of  fish  in 
the  Honeoye,"  whose  waters,  through  the  thick  foliage  of 
the  trees,  were  just  discernible,  sparkling  and  gleaming 
in  the  bright  sunlight. 

"  I  never  fish,  thank  you,  sir,"  answered  Durward,  while 
the  good-natured  landlord  continued :  "  Now  you  don't 
say  it !  Hunt,  then,  mebby  ?  " 

"  Occasionally,"  said  Durward,  adding,  "  But  my  rea 
son  for  stopping  here  is  of  entirely  a  different  nature.  I 
hear  there  is  with  you  a  sick  lady.  She  is  a  friend  of 
mine,  and  I  am  staying  to  see  that  she  is  well  attended  to. 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Uncle  Timothy,  suddenly  changing  his 
opinion  of  'Lena,  whose  want  of  money  had  made  him 
sadly  suspicious  of  her.  "  Yes,  yes,  a  fine  gal ;  fell  into 
good  hands,  too,  for  my  old  woman  is  the  greatest  kind 
of  a  nuss.  Wan't  to  see  her,  don't  you  ?— the  lady  I 
ni  can." 

"  Not  just  yet ;  I  would  like  a  few  moments'  conversa 
tion  with  your  wife  first,"  answered  Durward. 

Greatly  frustrated  when  she  learned  that  the  stylish- 


THE  WANDERER.  357 

looking  gentleman  wished  to  talk  with  her,  Aunt  Bet- 
sey  rubbed  her  shining  face  with  flour,  and  donning  anoth 
er  cap,  repaired  to  the  sitting-room,  where  she  commenced 
making  excuses  about  herself,  the  house,  and  everything 
else,  saying,  "  't  want  what  he  was  used  to,  she  knew,  but 
she  hoped  he'd  try  to  put  up  with  it." 

As  soon  as  he  was  able  to  get  in  a  word,  Durward  pro 
ceeded  to  ask  her  every  particular  concerning  'Lena's  ill 
ness,  and  whether  she  would  probably  recognize  him 
should  he  venture  into  her  presence. 

"  Bless  your  dear  heart,  no.  She  hain't  known  a  soul 
on  us  these  three  days.  Sometimes  she  calls  me  '  grand 
mother,'  and  says  when  she's  dead  I'll  know  she's  inno 
cent.  'Pears  like  somebody  had  been  slanderin'  her,  for 
she  begs  and  pleads  with  Durward,  as  she  calls  him,  not 
to  believe  it.  Ain't  you  the  one  she  moans  ?  " 

Durward  nodded,  and  Mrs.  Aldergrass  continued:  "I 
thought  so,  for  when  the  stage  driv  up  she  was  standin' 
straight  in  the  bed,  ravin'  and  screechin',  but  the  minit  she 
heard  your  voice  she  dropped  down,  and  has  been  as  quiet 
ever  since.  Will  you  go  up  now  ?  " 

Durward  signified  his  willingness,  and  following  his 
landlady,  he  soon  stood  in  the  close,  pent-up  room,  where, 
in  an  uneasy  slumber,  'Lena  lay  panting  for  breath,  and 
at  intervals  faintly  moaning  in  her  sleep.  She  had  fear 
fully  changed  since  last  he  saw  her,  and,  with  a  groan,  he 
bent  over  her,  murmuring,  "  My  poor  'Lena,"  while  he 
gently  laid  his  cool,  moist  hand  upon  her  burning  brow. 
As  if  there  were  something  soothing  in  its  touch,  she 
quickly  placed  her  little  hot,  parched  hand  on  his,  whis. 
pering,  "  Keep  it  there.  It  will  make  me  well." 

For  a  long  time  he  sat  by  her,  bathing  her  head  and 
carefully  removing  from  her  face  and  neck  the  thick  curls 
which  Mrs.  Aldergrass  had  thought  to  cut  away.  At 


358  'LENA  RIVERS. 

last  she  awoke,  but  Durward  shrank  almost  in  fear  from 
the  wild,  bright  eyes  which  gazed  so  fixedly  upon  him, 
for  in  them  was  no  ray  of  reason.  She  called  him  "  John," 
blessing  him  for  coming,  and  saying,  "  Did  you  tell  Dur 
ward.  Does  he  know  ?  " 

"  I  am  Durward,"  said  he.  "  Don't  you  recognize  me  ? 
Look  again." 

"  No,  no,"  she  answered,  with  a  mocking  laugh,  which 
made  him  shudder,  it  was  so  unlike  the  merry,  ringing 
tones  he  had  once  loved  to  hear.  "  No,  no,  you  are  not 
Durward.  He  would  not  look  at  me  as  you  do.  He 
thinks  me  guilty." 

It  was  in  vain  Durward  strove  to  convince  her  of  his 
ind  entity.  She  would  only  answer  with  a  laugh,  which 
grated  so  harshly  on  his  ear  that  he  finally  desisted,  and 
suffered  her  to  think  he  was  her  cousin.  The  smallness  of 
her  chamber  troubled  him,  and  when  Mrs.  Aldergrass 
came  up  he  asked  if  there  was  no  other  apartment  where 
'Lena  would  be  more  comfortable. 

"  Of  course  there  is,"  said  Aunt  Betsey.  "  There's  the 
best  chamber  I  was  goin'  to  give  to  you." 

"  Never  mind  me,"  said  he.  "  Let  her  have  every  com 
fort  the  house  affords,  and  you  shall  be  amply  paid." 

Uncle  Timothy  had  now  no  objection  to  the  offer,  and 
the  large,  airy  room  with  its  snowy,  draped  bed  was  soon 
in  readiness  for  the  sufferer,  who,  in  one  of  her  wayward 
moods,  absolutely  refused  to  be  moved.  It  was  in  vain 
that  Aunt  Betsey  plead,  persuaded,  and  threatened,  and 
at  last  in  despair  Durward  was  called  in  to  try  his  powers 
of  persuasion. 

"  That's  something  more  like  it,"  said  'Lena,  and  when 
he  urged  upon  her  the  necessity  of  her  removal,  she 
asked,  "  Will  you  go  with  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  said  he. 


THE  WANDERER.  359 

44  And  stay  with  me  ?  " 

"  Certainly." 

"  Then  I'll  go,"  she  continued,  stretching  her  arms  to 
ward  him  as  a  child  toward  its  mother. 

A  moment  more  and  she  was  reclining  on  the  soft  downy 
pillows,  the  special  pride  of  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  who  bustled 
in  and  out,  while  her  husband,  ashamed  of  his  stinginess, 
said  "  they  should  of  moved  her  afore,  only  't  was  a  bad 
sign." 

During  the  remainder  of  the  day  she  seemed  more 
quiet,  talking  incessantly,  it  is  true,  but  never  raving  if 
Durward  were  near.  It  is  strange  what  power  he  had 
over  her,  a  word  from  him  sufficing  at  any  time  to  subdue 
her  when  in  her  most  violent  fits  of  frenzy.  For  two  days 
and  nights  he  watched  by  her  side,  never  giving  himsell 
a  moment's  rest,  while  the  neighbors  looked  on,  surmising 
and  commenting  as  people  always, will.  Every  delicacy 
of  the  season,  however  costly,  was  purchased  for  her  com 
fort,  while  each  morning  the  flowers  which  he  knew  she 
loved  the  best  were  freshly  gathered  from  the  different 
gardens  of  Laurel  Hill,  and  in  broken  pitchers,  cracked 
tumblers,  and  nicked  saucers,  adorned  the  room. 

At  the  close  of  the  third  day  she  fell  into  a  heavy  slum 
ber,  and  Durward,  worn  out  and  weary,  retired  to  take 
the  rest  he  so  much  needed.  For  a  long  time  'Lena  slept, 
watched  by  the  physician,  who,  knowing  that  the  crisis 
had  arrived,  waited  anxiously  for  her  waking,  which  came 
at  last,  bringing  with  it  the  light  of  returning  reison. 
Dreamily  she  gazed  about  the  room,  and  in  a  voice  no 
longer  strong  with  the  excitement  of  delirium,  asked, 
"  Where  am  I,  and  how  came  I  here  ?  " 

In  a  few  words  the  physician  explained  all  that  wasne- 
cessary  for  her  to  know,  and  then  going  for  Mrs.  Alder- 
grass,  told  her  of  the  favorable  change  in  his  patient,  add 


3 GO  'LENA  RIVERS. 

ing  that  a  sudden  shock  might  still  pro  TO  fata..  There* 
fore,"  said  he,  "  though  I  knoT  *<***  m  what  relation  thi? 
Mr.  Bellmont  stands  to  her,  I  Jhink  it  advisable  for  her  to 
remain  awhile  in  ignorance  of  nis  presence.  It  is  of  the 
utmost  consequence  that  she  be  kept  quiet  for  a  few  days, 
at  the  end  of  which  time  she  can  see  him." 

All  this  Aunt  Betsey  communicated  to  Durward,  who, 
unwilling  to  do  anything  which  would  endanger  'Lena's 
safety,  kept  himself  aloof,  treading  softly  and  speaking 
low,  for  as  if  her  hearing  were  sharpened  by  disease,  she 
more  than  once,  when  he  was  talking  in  the  hah1  below, 
started  up,  listening  eagerly ;  then,  as  if  satisfied  that  she 
had  been  deceived,  she  would  resume  her  position,  while 
the  flush  on  her  cheek  deepened  as  she  thought,  "  Oh, 
what  if  it  had  indeed  been  he !  " 

Nearly  all  the  day  long  he  sat  just  without  the  door, 
holding  his  breath  as  he  caught  the  faint  tones  of  her 
voice,  and  longing  for  the  hour  when  he  could  see  her, 
and  obtain,  if  possible,  some  clue  to  the  mystery  attending 
her  and  his  father.  His  mother's  words,  together  with 
what  he  had  heard  'Lena  say  in  her  ravings,  had  tended 
to  convince  him  that  she,  at  least,  might  be  innocent,  and 
once  assured  of  this,  he  felt  that  he  would  gladly  fold  her 
to  his  bosom,  and  cherish  her  there  as  the  choicest  of 
heaven's  blessings.  All  this  time  'Lena  had  110  suspicion 
of  his  presence,  but  she  wondered  at  the  many  luxuries 
which  surrounded  her,  and  once,  when  Mrs.  Aldergrass 
offered  her  some  choice  wine,  she  asked  who  it  was  that 
supplied  her  with  so  many  comforts.  Aunt  Betsey's  forte 
did  not  lay  in  keeping  a  secret,  and  rather  evasively  she 
replied,  "  You  mustn't  ask  me  too  many  questions  just 

yet ! " 

'Lena's  suspicions  were  at  once  aroused,  and  for  more 
than  an  hour  she  lay  thinking— trying  to  recall  something 


THE  WANDERER.  3OJ 

which  seemed  to  her  like  a  dream.  At  last  calling  Aunt 
Betsey  to  her,  she  said,  "There  was  somebody  here  while 
I  was  so  sick—  somebody  besides  strangers-somebody  that 
staid  with  me  all  the  time—  who  was  it  ?  » 

;'  Nobody,  nobody—  I  mustn't  tell,"  said  Mrs.  Alder- 
grass,  hurriedly,  while  'Lena  continued,  "  Was  it  Cousin 
John  ?  " 

"No,  no;  don't  guess  any  more,"  was  Mrs.  Alder- 
grass'  reply,  and  'Lena,  clasping  her  hands  together,  ex 
claimed,  "  Oh,  could  it  be  he." 

The  words  reached  Durward's  ear,  and  nothing  but  a 
sense  of  the  harm  it  might   do  prevented  him  from  go- 
mg  at  once  to  her  bedside.    That  night,  at  hi,  earnest  re- 
quest,  the  physician  gave  him  permission  to  see  her  in  the 
morning  and  Mrs.  Aldergrass  was  commissioned  to  pre 
pare  her  for  the  interview.     'Lena  did  not  ask  who  it  was  • 
felt  that  she  knew;  and  the  knowledge  that  he  was 
here-that  he  had  cared  for  her-operated  upon  her  like 
»  spell,  soothing  her  into  the  most  refreshing  slumber  she 
had  experienced  for  many  a  weary  week.     With  the  sun- 
•mg  she  was  awake,  but  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  who  came  in 
soon  after  told  her  that  the  visitor  was  not  to  be  admitted 
il  about  ten  as  she  would  by  that  time  have  become 
more  composed,  and  be  the  better  able  to  endure  the  ex 
citement  of  the  interview.    A  natural  delicacy  prevented 
Lena  rom  objecting  to  the  delay,  and,  a,  calmly  as  pos- 
ible,  she  watched  Mrs.  Aldergrass  while  she  put  the  room 
to  rights,  and  then  patiently  submitted  to  the  arranging 
•f  her  curls   which  during  her  iljness  had  become  matte! 
tabled.     Before  eight  everything  was  in  readiness, 

worn  out  by  her 


How  lovely  8he   looks,"   thought   Mrs.  Ald.rgras* 


p 


362  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"He  shall  just  have  a  peep  at  her,"  and  stepping  to  the 
door  she  beckoned  Durward  to  her  side. 

Never  before  had  'Lena  seemed  so  beautiful  to  him,  and 
as  he  looked  upon  her,  he  felt  his  doubts  removing,  one 
by  one.  She  was  innocent— it  could  not  be  otherwise— 
and  very  impatiently  he  awaited  the  lapse  of  the  two 
hours  which  must  pass  ere  he  could  see  her,  face  to  face. 
At  length,  as  the  surest  way  of  killing  time,  he  started  out 
for  a  walk  in  the  pleasant  wood  which  skirted  the  foot  of 
Laurel  Hill. 

Here  for  a  time  we  leave  him,  while  in  another  chap- 
ter  we  speak  of  an  event  which,  in  the  natural  order  of 
things,  should  here  be  narrated. 


CHAPTER  XXXIV. 

'LENA'S    FATHER. 

Two  or  three  days  before  the  morning  of  which  we 
have  spoken,  Uncle  Timothy,  who  like  many  of  his  pro 
fession  had  been  guilty  of  a  slight  infringement  of  the 
"  Maine  "  liquor  law,  had  been  called  to  answer  for  the 
same  at  the  court  then  in  session  in  the  village  of  Canan- 
daigua,  the  terminus  of  the  stage  route.  Altogether  too 
stingy  to  pay  the  coach  fare,  his  own  horse  had  carried 
him  out,  going  for  him  on  the  night  preceding  Durward's 
projected  meeting  with  'Lena.  On  the  afternoon  of  that 
day  the  cars  from  New  York  brought  up  several  passen 
gers,  who  being  bound  for  Buffalo,  were  obliged  to  wait 
some  hours  for  the  arrival  of  the  Albany  train. 

Among  those  who  stopped  at  the  same  house  with  Un 
cle  Timothy,  was  our  old  acquaintance,  Mr.  Graham,  who 


TEXA'S   FATHER.  303 

had  returned  from  Europe,  and  was  now  homeward  bound 
firmly  fixed  in  his  intention  to  do  right  at  last.     Many  and 
many  a  time  during  his  travels  had  the  image  of  a  pale 
sad  face  arisen  before  him,  accusing  him  of  so  lono-  11Co,' 
lectmg  to  own  his  child,  for  'Lena  was  his  daughter  and 
she,  who  in   aU  her   bright  beauty  had  years  ago  gone 
lown  to  an  early  grave,  was  his  wife,  the  wife  of  his  first 
and  in    bitterness  of  heart  he   sometimes  thought    of 
his   only  love.     His  childhood's  home,  which  was  at  the 
sunny  south,  was  not  a  happy  one,  for  ere  he  had  learned 
to  lisp  his  mother's  name,  she  had  died,  leaving  him  to  the 
guardianship  of  his  father,  who  was  cold,  exacting  and 
tyrannical,  ruling  his  son  with  a  rod  of  iron,  and  by  his 
stern,  unbending  manner  increasing  the  natural  cowardice 
Ins  disposition.     From  his  mother  Harry  had  inherited 
a  generous,  impulsive  nature,  frequently  leading  him  into 
rors  which  his  father  condemned  with  so  much  severity 
that  he  early  learned  the  art  of  concealment,  as  far,  at 
least,  as  his  father  was  concerned. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  he  left  home  for  Yale,  .where  he 
>ent  four  happy  years,  for  the  restraints  of  college  life 
though  sometimes  irksome,  were   preferable   far  to  the 
dull  monotony  of  his  southern  home ;  and  when  at  last 
e  was  graduated,  and  there  was  no  longer  an  excuse  for 
tarrying,  he  lingered  by  the  way,  stopping  at  the  then  vil 
lage  of  Springfield,  where,  actuated  by  some  sudden  freak 
registered  himself  as  Harry  Ewers,  the  latter  being  his 
middle  name.     For  doing  this  he  had  no  particular  rea 
son,  except  that  it  suited  his  fancy,  and  Rivers,  he  thought 
was  a  better  name  than  Graham.     Here  he  met  with  Hele 
na  Nichols,  whose  uncommon  beauty  first   attracted  his 
attention,  and  whose  fresh,  unstudied  manners  afterward 
won  his  love  to  such  an  extent,  that  in  an  unguarded  mo- 
inent,  and  without  a  thought  of  the  result,  he  married 


SG4  'LENA  RIVERS. 

her,  neglecting  to  tell  her  his  real  name  before  their  mar 
riage,  because  he  feared  she  would  cease  to  respect  him 
if  she  knew  he  had  deceived  her,  and  then  afterward  find- 
ing  it  harder  than  ever  to  confess  his  fault. 

As  time  wore  on,  his  father's  letters,  commanding  him 
to  return,  grew  more  and  more  peremptory,  until  at  last 
he  wrote,  "  I  am  sick — dying — and  if  you  do  not  come,  I'll 
cast  you  off  forever." 

Harry  knew  this  was  no  unmeaning  threat,  and  he  now 
began  to  reap  the  fruit  of  his  folly.  He  could  not  give 
up  Helena,  who  daily  grew  dearer  to  him,  neither  could 
he  brave  the  displeasure  of  his  father  by  acknowledging 
liis  marriage,  for  disinheritance  was  sure  to  follow.  In 
this  dilemma  he  resolved  to  compromise  the  matter.  He 
would  leave  Helena  awhile  ;  he  would  visit  his  father,  and 
if  a  favorable  opportunity  occurred,  he  would  confess  all ; 
if  not,  he  would  return  to  his  wife  and  do  the  best  he 
could.  But  she  must  be  provided  for  during  his  absence, 
and  to  effect  this,  he  wrote  to  his  father,  saying  he  stood 
greatly  in,  need  of  five  hundred  dollars,  and  that  imme 
diately  on  its  receipt  he  would  start  for  home.  Inconsis 
tent  as  it  seemed  with  his  general  character,  the  elder  Mr. 
Graham  was  generous  with  his  money,  lavishing  upon  his 
son  all  that  he  asked  for,  and  the  money  was  accordingly 
sent  without  a  moment's  hesitation. 

And  now  Harry's  besetting  sin,  secrecy,  came  again  into 
action,  and  instead  of  manfully  telling  Helena  the  truth, 
he  left  her  privately,  stealing  away  at  night,  and  quieting 
his  COD  science  by  promising  himself  to  reveal  all  in  a  let 
ter,  which  was  actually  written,  but  as  at  the  time  of  its 
arrival  Helena  was  at  home,  and  the  postmaster  knew  of 
no  auch  person,  it  was  at  last  sent  to  Washington  with 
thousands  of  its  companions.  The  reader  already  knowa 
how  'Lena's  young  mother  watched  for  her  recreant  hus* 


'LEXA'S  FATHER.  3(J£ 

band's  coining  until  life  and  hope  died  out  together,  and 
it  is  only  necessary  to  repeat  that  part  of  the  story  which 
relates  to  Harry,  who  on  his  return  home  found  his  father 
much  worse  than  he  expected.  At  his  bedside,  minister 
ing  to  his  wants,  was  a  young,  dashing  widow,  who  prided 
herself  upon  being  Lady  Bellmont.  On  his  death-bed  her 
father  had  committed  her  to  the  guardianship  of  Mr.  Gra 
ham,  who,  strictly  honorable  in  all  his  dealings,  had  held 
his  trust  until  the  time  of  her  marriage  with  a  young 
Englishman. 

Unfortunately,  as  it  proved  for  Harry,  and  fortunately 
for  Sir  Arthur,  who  had  nothing  in  common  with  hi*' 
wife,  the  latter  died  within  two  years  after  his  marriage, 
leaving  his  widow  and  infant  son  again  to  the  care  of  Mr. 
Graham,  with  whom  Lady  Bellmont,  as  she  was  pleased 
to  call  herself,  lived  at  intervals,  swaying  him  whichever 
way  she  listed,  and  influencing  him  as  he  had  never  been 
influenced  before.  The  secret  of  this  was,  that  the  old 
man  had  his  eye  upon  her  vast  possessions,  which  he  des 
tined  for  his  son,  who,. ignorant  of  the  honor  intended 
him,  had  presumed  to  marry  according  to  the  promptings 
of  his  heart. 

Scarcely  was  the  first  greeting  over,  ere  his  father  at 
once  made  known  his  plans,  to  which  Harry  listened  with 
mingled  pain  and  amazement.  "  Lucy — Lady  Bellmont ! " 
said  he,  "why,  she's  a  mother — a  widow — beside  being 
ten  years  my  senior." 

"  Three  years,"  interrupted  his  father.  "  She  is  twen 
ty-five,  you  twenty-two,  and  then  as  to  her  being  a  widow 
and  a  mother,  the  immensity  of  her  wealth  atones  for 
that.  She  is  much  sought  after,  but  I  think  she  prefers 
you.  She  will  make  you  a  good  wife,  and  I  am  resolve d 
to  see  the  union  consummated  ere  I  die." 

"  Never,  sir,  never,"  answered  Harry,  in  a  more  deci- 


366  'LENA  KIVERS. 

ded  manner  than  he  had  before  assumed  toward  his  father, 
"  It  is  utterly  impossible." 

Mr.  Graham  was  too  much  exhausted  to  urge  the  mat- 
tor  at  that  time,  but  he  continued  at  intervals  to  harass 
Harry,  until  the  very  sight  of  Lucy  Bellmont  became  hate 
ful  to  him.  It  was  not  so,  however,  with  her  eon,  the  Dur- 
ward  of  our  story.  He  was  a  fine  little  fellow,  whom 
every  one  loved,  and  for  hours  would  Harry  amuse  him 
self  with  him,  while  his  thoughts  were  with  his  own  wife 
and  child,  the  latter  of  whom  was  to  be  so  strangely  con 
nected  with  the  fortunes  of  the  boy  at  his  side.  For 
weeks  his  father  lingered,  each  day  seeming  an  age  to 
Harry,  who,  though  he  did  not  wish  to  hasten  his  father's 
death,  still  longed  to  be  away.  Twice  had  he  written 
without  obtaining  an  answer,  and  he  was  about  making 
up  his  mind  to  start,  at  all  events,  when  his  father  sudden, 
ly  died,  leaving  him  the  sole  heir  of  all  his  princely  for 
tune,  and  with  his  latest  breath  enjoining  it  upon  him  to 
marry  Lucy  Bellmont,  who,  after  the  funeral  was  over, 
adverted  to  it,  saying  in  her  softest  tones,  "  I  hope  you 
don't  feel  obliged  to  fulfill  your  father's  request." 

"  Of  course  not,"  was  Harry's  short  answer,  as  he  went 
on  with  his  preparations  for  his  journey,  anticipating  the 
happiness  he  should  experience  in  making  Helena  the  mis 
tress  of  his  luxurious  home. 

But  alas  for  human  hopes.  The  very  morning  on  which 
he  was  intending  to  start,  he  was  seized  with  a  fever, 
which  kept  him  confined  to  his  bed  until  the  spring  was 
far  advanced.  Sooner  than  he  was  able  he  started  for 
Springfield  in  quest  of  Helena,  learning  from  the  woman 
whom  he  had  left  in  charge,  that  she  was  dead,  and  her  baby 
too  !  The  shock  was  too  much  for  him  in  his  weak  state, 
and  for  two  weeks  he  was  again  confined  to  a  sick-bed, 
sincerely  mourning  the  untimely  end  of  one  whom  he  had 


'LENA'S   FATHER.  367 

truly  loved,  and  whose  death  his  own  foolish  conduct  had 
hastened.  Soon  after  their  marriage  her  portrait  had 
been  taken  by  the  best  artist  in  the  town,  and  this  he  de 
termined  to  procure  as  a  memento  of  the  few  happy  days 
he  had  spent  with  Helena.  But  the  cottage  where  he  left 
her  was  now  occupied  by  strangers,  and  after  many  in- 
quirios,  he  learned  that  the  portrait,  together  with  some 
of  the  furniture,  had  been  sold  to  pay  the  rent,  which  be- 
came  due  soon  after  his  departure.  His  next  thought  wa* 
to  visit  her  parents,  but  from  this  his  natural  timidity  shrank. 
They  would  reproach  him,  he  thought,  with  the  death  of 
their  daughter,  whom  he  had  so  deeply  wronged,  and  not 
possessing  sufficient  courage  to  meet  them  face  to  face,  he 
again  started  for  home,  bearing  a  sad  heart,  which  scarce- 
ly  again  felt  a  thrill  of  joy  until  the  morning  when  he  first 
met  with  'Lena,  whose  exact  resemblance  to  her  mother 
so  startled  him  as  to  arouse  the  jealousy  of  his  wife. 

It  would  be  both  needless  and  tiresome  to  enumerate 
the  many  ways  and  means  by  which  Lucy  Bellmont  sought 
to  ensnare  him.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  she  at  last  succeed 
ed,  and  he  married  her,  finding  in  the  companionship  of 
her  son  more  real  pleasure  than  he  ever  experienced  in  her 
society.  After  a  time  Mrs.  Graham,  growing  weary  of 
Charleston,  where  her  haughty,  overbearing  manner  made 
tier  unpopular,  besought  her  husband  to  remove,  which  ho 
finally  did,  going  to  Louisville,  where  he  remained  until  the 
time  of  his  removal  to  Woodlawn.  Fully  believiiio-  what 
the  old  nurse  had  told  him  of  the  death  of  his  wife  and 
child,  he  had  no  idea  of  the  existence  of  the  latter,  though 
often  in  the  stillness  of  night  the  remembrance  of  the  Ht- 
tie  girl  whom  Durward  had  pointed  out  to  him  in  the 
ears,  arose  before  him,  haunting  him  with  visions  of  the 
past,  but  it  was  not  until  he  met  her  at  Maple  Grove  that 
Ue  entertained  a  thought  of  her  being  his  daughter. 


308  -LEXA  RIVERS. 

From  that  time  his  whole  being  seemed  changed,  for 
there  was  now  an  object  for  which  to  live.  Carefully  had 
he  guarded  from  his  wife  a  knowledge  of  his  first  marriage, 
for  he  dreaded  her  sneering  reproaches,  and  he  could  not 
hear  his  beloved  Helena's  name  breathed  lightly  by  one 
so  greatly  her  inferior.  When  he  saw  'Lena,  however, 
his  first  impulse  was  to  clasp  her  in  his  arms  and  compel 
his  wife  to  own  her,  but  day  after  day  went  by,  and  he 
still  delayed,  hoping  for  a  more  favorable  opportunity, 
which  never  came.  Had  he  found  her  in  less  favorable 
circumstances,  he  might  have  done  differently,  but  seeing 
only  the  brightest  side  of  her  life,  he  believed  her  com 
paratively  happy.  She  was  well  educated,  accomplished, 
and  beautiful,  and  so  he  waited,  secure  in  the  facfc'that  he 
was  near  to  see  that  no  harm  should  befall  her.  Once  it 
occurred  to  him  that  possibly  he  might  die  suddenly,  thus 
leaving  his  relationship  to  her  a  secret  forever,  and  acting 
upon  this  thought,  he  immediately  made  his  will,  bequeath 
ing  all  to  'Lena,  whom  he  acknowledged  to  be  his  daugh 
ter,  adding  an  explanation  of  the  whole  affair,  together 
with  a  most  touching  letter  to  his  child,  who  would  never 
see  it  until  he  was  dead. 

This  done,  he  felt  greatly  relieved,  and  each  day  found 
some  good  excuse  for  still  keeping  it  from  his  wife,  who 
worried  him  incessantly  concerning  his  evident  preference 
for  'Lena.  Many  and  many  a  time  he  resolved  to  tell  her 
all,  but  as  often  postponed  the  matter,  until,  with  the 
broad  Atlantic  between  them,  he  ventured  to  write  what 
he  could  not  tell  her  verbally,  and,  strange  to  say,  the  ef 
fect  upon  his  wife  was  far  different  from  what  he  had  ex 
pected.  She  did  not  faint,  for  there  was  no  one  by  to  see 
her,  neither  did  she  rave,  for  there  was  no  one  to  hear 
her,  but  with  her  usual  inconsistency,  she  blamed  her  hus 
band  for  not  telling  her  before.  Then  came  other  thoughts, 


'LENA'S  FATHER.  3lJ9 

of  a  different  nature.     She  had  helped  to  impair  'Lena's 
reputation,  and  if  disgrace  attached  to  her,  it  would  also 
fall  upon  her  own  family.     Consequently,  as  we  have  seen 
she  set  herself  at  work  to  atone,  as  far  as  possible,  for  her 
conduct.     Her  husband  had  given  her  permission  to  wait 
if  she  chose,  until  his  return,  ere  she  made  the  affair  pub- 
he,  and  as  she  dreaded  the  remarks  it  would  necessarily 
call  forth,  she  resolved  to  do  so.     He  had  advised  her  to 
tell  'Lena,  but  she  was  gone— no  one  knew  whither  and 
nervously  she  waited   for  some  tidings  of  the  wanderer 
She  was  willing  to  receive  'Lena,  but  not  the  grandmother  • 
she  was  voted  an  intolerable  nuisance,  who  should  never 
darken  the  doors  of  Woodlawn— never  ! 

Meartime,  Mr.  Graham  had  again  crossed  the  ocean 
landing  in  New  York,  from  whence  he  started  for  home 
meeting,  as  we  have  seen,  with  a  detention  in  Canandaigua! 
where  he  accidentally  fell  in  with  Uncle  Timothy  who' 
being  minus  quite  a  little  sum  of  money  on  account  of  his 
transgression,  was  lamenting  his  ill  fortune  to  one  of  his 
acquaintances,  and  threatening  to  give  up  tavern  keeping 
if  the  Maine  law  wasn't  repealed. 

"Here,"   said   he,    "it  has   cost  me   up'ards   of  fifty 
dollars,  and  I'll  bet  I  hain't  sold  mor'n  a  barrel,  besides 
what  wine  that  Kentucky  chap  has  bought  for  his  gal 
and  I  suppose  they  call  that  nothin',  bein'  it's  for  sick' 
ness.     Why,  good  Lord,  the  hull  on't  was  for  medicine 
or  clnmistry,  or  mechanics  I " 

This  reminded  his  friend  to  inquire  after  the  sick  lady 
whose  name  he  did  not  remember. 

"  It's  'Lena,''  answered  Uncle  Timothy,  "  'Lena  Rivers 

that  dandified  chap  calls  her,  and  it's  plaguy  curia  to  me 

what  she's  a  runnin'  away  for,  and  he  a  streakln'  it  through 

the  country  arter  her;  there's  mischief  summers,  so  I  teU 

P*  24 


870  'LEXA  RIVERS. 

'em,  but  that's  no  consarn  of  mine  so  long  as  he  pays 
down  regular." 

Mr.  Graham's  curiosity  was  instantly  aroused,  and  the 
moment  he  could  speak  to  Uncle  Timothy  alone,  he  asked 
what  he  meant  by  the  sick  lady. 

In  his  own  peculiar  dialect,  Uncle  Timothy  told  all  he 
knew,  adding,  "  A  relation  of  yourn,  mebby  ?  " 

"  Yes,  yes,"  said  Mr.  Graham.  "  Is  it  far  to  Laurel 
Hill?" 

"  Better'n  a  dozen  miles.    Was  you  goin'  out  there  ?  " 

Mr.  Graham  replied  in  the  affirmative,  at  the  same  time 
asking  if  he  could  procure  a  horse  and  carriage  there. 

Uncle  Timothy  never  let  an  opportunity  pass  for  turn 
ing  a  penny,  and  now  nudging  Mr.  Graham  with  his  el 
bow,  he  said,  "  Them  liv'ry  scamps'll  charge  you  tew  dol 
lars,  at  the  lowest  calkerlation.  I'm  goin*  right  out,  and 
will  take  you  for  six  shillin'.  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

Mr.  Graham's  thoughts  were  not  very  complimentary 
to  the  shrewd  Yankee,  but  keeping  his  opinion  to  him 
self,  he  replied  that  he  would  go,  suggesting  that  they 
should  start  immediately. 

"  In  less  than  five  minits.  You  jest  set  down  while  I 
go  to  the  store  arter  some  jimcracks  for  the  old  woman," 
said  Uncle  Timothy,  starting  up  the  street,  which  was  the 
last  Mr.  Graham  saw  of  him  for  three  long  hours. 

At  the  end  of  that  time,  the  little  man  came  stubbing 
down  the  walk,  making  many  apologies,  and  saying  "  he 
got  so  engaged  about  the  darned  '  liquor  law,'  and  the 
putty-heads  that  made  it,  that  he'd  no  idee  'twas  so  late." 

On  their  way  home  he  still  continued  to  discourse  on 
his  favorite  topic,  lamenting  that  he  had  voted  for  the 
present  governor,  announcing  his  intention  of  "jinin'  the 
Hindews  the  fust  time  they  met  at  Suckerport,"  a  vil 
lage  at  the  foot  of  Honeoye  lake,  and  stopping  every  man 


•LENA'S  FATHER.  37! 

*  bom  he  knew  to  belong  to  that  order,  to  ask  if  they 
took  a  fee,  and  if  "there  was  any  bedivelment  of  gridi 
ron*  and  goats,  such  as  the  Masons  and  Odd  Fellers  had ! » 
Being  repeatedly  assured  that  the  fee  was  only  a  dollar, 
and  that  the  initiatory  process  was  not  very  painful,  he 
concluded  "to  go  it,  provided  they'd  promise  to  run  him 
for  constable.  Office  is  the  hull  any  of  the  baggers  jine 
'em  for,  and  I  may  as  weU  go  in  for  a  sheer,"  said  he, 
thinking  if  he  could  not  have  the  privilege  of  selling  liquor 
he  would  at  least  secure  the  right  of  arresting  those  who' 
drank  it ! 

In  this  way  his  progress  homeward  was  not  very  rapid, 
and  the  clock  had  struck  ten  long  ere  they  reached  the' 
inn,  which  they  found  still  and  dark,  save  the  light  which 
was  kept  burning  in  'Lena's  room. 

"  That's  her  chamber— the  young  gal's— where  you  see 
the  candle,"  said  Uncle  Timothy,  as  they  drew  up  before 
the  huge  walls  of  the  tavern.  " I  guess  you  won't  want 
to  disturb  her  to-night." 

"  Certainly  not,"  answered  Mr.  Graham,  adding,  as  he 
It  a  twinge  of  his  inveterate  habit  of  secrecy,  "If  you'd 
just  as  lief,  you  need  not  speak  of  me  to  the  young  gentle 
man  ;  I  wish  to  take  him  bv  surprise  "—meaning  Durward. 
There  was  no  particular  necessity  for  this  caution,  for  ' 
Uncle  Timothy  was  too  much  absorbed  in  his  loss  to  think 
I  anything  else,  and  when  his  wife  asked  "who  it  was 
that  he  lighted  up  to  bed,"  he  replied,  "A  chap  that 
wanted  to  come  out  this  way,  and  so  rid  with  me." 

Mr.  Graham  was  very  tired,  and  now  scarcely  had  his 
head  pressed  the  pillow  ere  he  was  asleep,  dreaming  of 
'Lena,  whose  presence  was  to  shed  such  a  halo  of  sunlight 
over  his  hitherto  cheerless  home.  The  ringing  of  the  belli 
next  morning  failed  to  arouse  him,  but  when  Mrs.  Alder, 
grass,  noticing  his  absence  from  the  table,  inquired  for 


372  'LENA   RIVERS. 

him,  Uncle  Timothy  answered,  "Never  inind,  .et  him 
sleep — tuckered  out,  mebby — and  you  know  we  allus 
have  a  sixpence  more  for  an  extra  meal ! 

About  eight  Mr.  Graham  arose,  and  after  a  more  than 
usually  careful  toilet,  he  sat  down  to  collect  his  scattered 
thoughts,  for  now  that  the  interview  was  so  near,  his 
ideas  seemed  suddenly  to  forsake  him.  From  the  window 
he  saw  Durward  depart  for  his  walk,  watching  him  until 
he  disappeared  in  the  dim  shadow  of  the  woods. 

"  I  will  wait  until  his  return,  and  let  him  tell  her," 
thought  he,  but  when  a  half  hour  or  more  went  by  and 
Durward  did  not  come,  he  concluded  to  go  down  and  ask 
to  see  her  by  himself. 

In  order  to  do  this,  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  pass 
'Lena's  room,  the  door  of  which  was  ajar.  She  was 
awake,  and  hearing  his  step,  thought  it  was  Mrs.  Alder- 
grass,  and  called  to  her.  A  thrill  of  exquisite  delight  ran 
through  his  frame  at  the  sound  of  her  voice,  and  for  an 
instant  he  debated  the  propriety  of  going  to  her  at  once. 
A  second  call  decided  him,  and  in  a  moment  he  was  at 
her  bedside,  clasping  her  in  his  arms,  and  exclaiming, 
"  My  precious  'Lena !  My  daughter  !  Has  nothing  ever 
told  you  that  I  am  your  father,  the  husband  of  your  an 
gel  mother,  who  lives  again  in  her  child — my  child — my 
'Lena?" 

For  a  moment  'Lena's  brain  grew  dizzy,  and  she  had 
well-nigh  fainted,  when  the  sound  of  Mr.  Graham's  voice 
again  brought  her  back  to  consciousness.  Pressing  his 
lips  to  her  white  brow,  he  said,  "  Speak  to  me,  my  daugh 
ter.  Say  that  you  receive  me  as  your  father,  for  such  I 
am." 

With  lightning  rapidity  'Lena's  thoughts  traversed  the 
past,  whose  dark  mystery  was  now  made  plain,  and  as  the 
thought  that  it  might  be  so— that  it  was  so— flashed  upon 


'LENA'S  FATHER.  573 


her,  she  clasped  her  hands  together,  exclaiming,  " 
father  !    Is  it  true?    You  are  not  deceiving  me  ?" 

"Deceive  you,  darling?  —  no,"  said  he.  I  am  yom 
father,  and  Helena  Nichols  was  my  wife." 

"  Why  then  did  you  leave  her  ?  Why  have  you  so 
long  left  me  unacknowledged  ?  "  asked  'Lena. 

Mr.  Graham  groaned  bitterly.  The  hardest  part  was 
yet  to  come,  but  he  met  it  manfully,  telling  her  the  whole 
story,  sparing  not  himself  in  the  least,  and  ending  by  ask 
ing  if,  after  all  this,  she  could  forgive  and  love  him  as  her 
father. 

Raising  herself  in  bed,  'Lena  wound  her  arms  around 
his  neck,  and  laying  her  face  against  his,  wept  like  a  lit- 
tie  child.  He  felt  that  he  was  sufficiently  answered,  and 
holding  her  closer  to  his  bosom,  he  pushed  back  the 
clustering  curls,  kissing  her  again  and  again,  while  he  said 
aloud,  "  I  have  your  answer,  dearest  one  ;  we  will  never 
be  parted  again." 

So  absorbed  was  he  in  his  newly  recovered  treasure, 
that  he  did  not  observe  the  fiery  eye,  the  glittering  teeth, 
and  clenched  fist  of  Durward  Bellmont,  who  had  returned 
from  his  walk,  and  who,  'in  coming  up  to  Jiis  room,  had 
recognized  the  tones  of  his  father's  voice.  Recoilirio- 
backward  a  step  or  two,  he  was  just  in  time  to  see  'Lena 
as  she  threw  herself  into  Mr.  Graham's  arms  —  in  time  to 
hear  the  tender  words  of  endearment  lavished  upon  her 
by  his  father  !  Staggering  backward,  he  caught  at  the 
banister  to  keep  from  falling,  while  a  moan  of  anguish 
came  from  his  ashen  lips.  Alone  in  his  room,  he  grew 
calmer,  though  his  heart  still  quivered  with  unutterable 
agony  as  he  strode  up  and  down  the  room,  exclaiming,  as 
he  had  once  done  before,  "  I  would  far  rather  see°her 
dead  than  thus  —  my  lost,  lost  'Lena  !  " 

Then,  in  the  deep  bitterness  of  his  spirit,  he  cursed  his 


SV4  'LEXA  IUVEHS. 

father,  whom  he  believed  to  be  far  more  guilty  than  sl/e. 
"  I  cannot  meet  him,"  thought  he  ;  "  there  is  murder  at 
my  heart,  and  I  must  away  ere  he  knows  of  my  presence." 

Suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  he  hastened  down  the 
stairs,  glancing  back  once,  and  seeing  'Lena  reclining  up 
on  his  father's  arm,  while  her  eyes  were  raised  to  his  with 
a  sweet,  confiding  smile,  which  told  of  perfect  happiness, 

"Thank  God  that  I  am  unarmed,  else  he  could  not 
live,"  thought  he,  hurrying  into  the  bar-room,  where  he 
placed  in  Uncle  Timothy's  hands  double  the  sum  due 
for  himself  and  'Lena,  and  then,  without  a  word  of  expla 
nation,  he  walked  away. 

He  was  a  good  pedestrian,  and  preferring  solitude  in 
his  present  state  of  feeling,  he  determined  to  go  on  foot 
to  Canandaigua,  a  distance  of  little  more  than  a  dozen 
miles.  Meantime,  Mr.  Graham  was  learning  from  'Lena 
the  cause  of  her  being  there,  and  though  she,  as  far  as 
possible,  softened  the  fact  of  his  having  been  accessory 
to  her  misfortunes,  he  felt  it  none  the  less  keenly,  and 
would  frequently  interrupt  her  with  the  exclamation  that 
it  was  the  result  of  his  cowardice — his  despicable  habit 
of  secrecy.  ^VJhen  she  spoke  of  the  curl  which  his  wife 
had  burned,  he  seemed  deeply  affected,  groaning  aloud 
as  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"  And  she  found  it — she  burned  it,"  said  he ;  and  it 
was  all  I  had  left  of  my  Helena.  I  cut  it  from  her  head 
on  the  morning  of  my  departure,  when  she  lay  sleeping, 
little  dreaming  of  my  cruel  desertion.  But,"  he  added, 
"  I  can  bear  it  better  now  that  I  have  you,  her  living  im 
age,  for  what  she  was  when  last  I  saw  her,  you  are  now." 

Their 'conversation  then  turned  upon  Durward,  and 
with  the  tact  he  so  well  knew  how  to  .employ,  Mr.  Gra 
ham  drew  from  his  blushing  daughter  a  confession  of  the 
'ovo  she  bore  him. 


'LENA'S  FATHER.  375 

44  He  is  worthy  of  you,"  said  he,  while  'Lena,  without 
seeming  to  heed  the  remark,  said,  "  I  have  not  seen  him 
yet,  but  I  am  expecting  him  every  moment,  for  he  was  to 
visit  me  this  morning." 

At  this  juncture  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  who  had  been  at  one 
of  her  neighbor's,  came  in,  appearing  greatly  surprised  at 
the  sight  of  the  stranger,  whom  'Lena  quietly  introduced 
as  "her  father,"  while  Mr.  Graham  colored  painfully  as 
Mrs.  Aldergrass,  curtsying  very  low,  hoped  Mr.  Rivers 
was  well ! 

"  Let  it  go  so,"  whispered  'Lena,  as  she  saw  her  father 
about  to  speak. 

Mr.  Graham  complied,  and  then  observing  how  anx 
iously  his  daughter's  eyes  sought  the  door-way,  whenever 
a  footstep  was  heard,  he  asked  Mrs.  Aldergrass  for  Mr. 
Bellmont,  saying  they  would  like  to  see  him,  if  he  had 
returned. 

Quickly  going  down  stairs,  Mrs.  Aldergrass  soon  came 
back,  announcing  that  "he'd  paid  his  bill  and  gone  off." 

"  Gone ! "  said  Mr.  Graham.  "  There  must  be  some  mis, 
take.  I  will  go  down  and  inquire." 

With  his  hand  in  his  pocket  grasping  the  purse  contain, 
ing  the  gold,  Uncle  Timothy  told  all  he  knew,  adding, 
that  "  'twan't  noways  likely  but  he'd  come  back  agin,  for 
he'd  left  things  in  his  room  to  the  vally  of  five  or  six 
dollars." 

Upon  reflection,  Mr.  Graham  concluded  so,  too,  and 
returning  to  'Lena,  he  sat  by  her  all  day,  soothing  her 
with  assurances  that  Durward  would  surely  come  back, 
as  there  was  no  possible  reason  for  his  leaving  them  so  ab 
ruptly.  As  the  day  wore  away  and  the  night  came  on, 
he  seemed  less  sure,  while  even  Uncle  Timothy  began  to 
fidget,  and  when  in  the  evening  a  young  pettifogger,  who 
had  recently  hung  out  his  shingle  on  Laurel  Hill,  came  in. 


376  'LENA  RIVERS. 

he  asked  him,  in  a  low  tone,  "  if,  under  the  present  gov 
ernor,  they  hung  folks  on  circumstantial  evidence  alone." 

"  Unquestionably,  for  that  is  sometimes  the  best  kind 
of  evidence,"  answered  the  sprig  of  the  law,  taking  out 
some  little  ivory  tablets  and  making  a  charge  against  Un 
cle  Timothy  for  professional  advice ! 

"  But  if  one  of  my  boarders,  who  has  lots  of  money, 
goes  off  in  broad  daylight  and  is  never  heard  of  agin, 
would  that  be  any  sign  he  was  murdered — by  the  land 
lord  ? "  continued  Uncle  Timothy,  beginning  to  think 
there  might  be  a  worse  law  than  the  Maine  liquor  law. 

"  That  depends  upon  the  previous  character  of  the  land 
lord,"  answered  the  lawyer,  making  another  entry,  while 
Uncle  Timothy,  brightening  up,  exclaimed,  "  I  shall  stand 
the  racket,  then,  for  my  character  is  tip-top." 

In  the  morning  Mr.  Graham  announced  his  intention  of 
going  in  quest  of  Durward,  and  with  a  magnanimity  quite 
praiseworthy,  Uncle  Timothy  offered  his  hoss  and  wagon 
for  nothin',  provided  Mr.  Graham  would  leave  his  watch 
as  a  guaranty  against  his  runnin'  off! " 

Just  as  Mr.  Graham  was  about  to  start,  a  horseman 
rode  up,  saying  he  had  come  from  Canandaigua  at  the  re 
quest  of  a  Mr.  Bellmont,  who  wished  him  to  bring  letters 
for  Mr.  Graham  and  Miss  Rivers. 

"  And  where  is  Mr.  Bellmont  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Graham,  to 
which  the  man  replied,  that  he  took  the  six  o'clock  train 
the  night  before,  saying,  further,  that  his  manner  was  so 
strange  as  to  induce  a  suspicion  of  insanity  on  the  part  of 
those  who  saw  him. 

Taking  the  package,  Mr,  Graham  repaired  to  'Lena's 
loom,  giving  her  her  letter,  and  then  reading  his,  which 
was  full  of  bitterness,  denouncing  him  as  a  villain,  and 
cautioning  him,  as  he  valued  his  life,  never  again  to  cross 
the  track  of  his  outraged  step-son. 


'LENA'S  FATHER  877 

"  You  have  robbed  me,"  he  wrote,  "  of  all  I  hold  most 
dear,  and  while  I  do  not  censure  her  the  less,  I  blame  you 
the  more,  for  you  are  older  in  experience,  older  in  years, 
and  ten-fold  older  in  sin,  and  I  know  you  must  have  used 
every  art  your  foul  nature  could  suggest,  ere  you  won  my 
lost  'Lena  from  the  path  of  rectitude." 

In  the  utmost  astonishment  Mr.  Graham  looked  up  at 
'Lena,  who  had  fainted.  It  was  long  ere  she  returned  to 
consciousness,  and  then  her  fainting  fit  was  followed  by 
another  more  severe,  if  possible,  than  the  first,  while  in 
speechless  agony  Mr.  Graham  hung  over  her. 

"  I  killed  the  mother,  and  now  I  am  killing  the  child," 
thought  he, 

But  at  last  'Lena  seemed  better,  and  taking  from  the 
pillow  the  crumpled  note,  she  passed  it  toward  her  father, 
bidding  him  read  it.  It  was  as  follows : 

"  MY  LOST  'LENA  :  By  this  title  it  seems  appropriate 
for  me  to  call  you,  for  you  are  more  surely  lost  to  me 
than  you  would  be  were  this  summer  sun  shining  upon 
your  grave.  And,  'Lena,  believe  me  when  I  say  I  would 
rather,  far  rather,  see  you  dead  than  the  guilty  thing  you 
are,  for  then  your  memory  would  be  to  me  as  a  holy, 
blessed  influence,  leading  me  on  to  a  better  world,  where 
I  could  hope  to  greet  you  as  my  spirit  bride.  But  now, 
alas!  how  dark  the  cloud  which  shrouds  you  from  my 
sight, 

"  Oh,  'Lena,  'Lena,  how  could  you  deceive  me  thus, 
when  I  thought  you  so  pure  and  innocent,  when  even 
now,  I  would  willingly  lay  down  my  life  could  that  save 
you  from  ruin. 

"  Do  you  ask  what  I  mean  ?  I  have  only  to  refer  you 
to  what  this  morning  took  place  between  you  and  the  vile 
man  I  once  called  father,  and  whom  I  believed  to  be  th* 


378.  'LENA  RIVERS. 

soul  of  truth  and  honor.  With  a  heart  full  of  tenderness 
toward  you,  I  was  hastening  to  your  side,  when  a  scene 
met  my  view  which  stilled  the  beatings  of  my  pulse  and 
curdled  the  very  blood  in  my  veins.  I  saw  you  throw  your 
arms  around  his  neck — the  husband  of  my  mother.  I 
saw  you  lay  your  head  upon  his  bosom.  I  heard  him  as 
he  called  you  dearest,  and  said  you  would  never  be  parted 
again ! 

"  You  know  all  that  has  passed  heretofore,  and  can  you 
wonder  that  my  worst  fears  are  now  confirmed  ?  God 
knows  how  I  struggled  against  those  doubts,  which  were 
nearly  removed,  when,  by  the  evidence  of  my  own  eye 
sight,  uncertainty  was  made  sure. 

"  And  now,  my  once  loved,  but  erring  'Lena,  farewell. 
I  am  going  away — whither,  I  know  not,  care  not,  so  that 
I  never  hear  your  name  coupled  with  disgrace.  Another 
•  reason  why  I  go,  is  that  the  hot  blood  of  the  south  burns 
too  fiercely  in  my  veins  to  suffer  me  to  meet  your  de 
stroyer  and  not  raise  my  hand  against  him.  When  this 
reaches  you,  I  shall  be  far  away.  But  what  matters  it  to 
you  ?  And  yet,  'Lena,  there  will  come  a  time  when  you'll 
remember  one  who,  had  you  remained  true  to  yourself, 
would  have  devoted  his  life  to  make  you  happy,  for  I 
know  I  am  not  indifferent  to  you.  I  have  read  it  hi  your 
speaking  eye,  and  in  the  child-like  confidence  with  which 
you  would  yield  to  me  when  no  one  else  could  control 
your  wild  ravings. 

"  But  enough  of  this.  Time  hastens,  and  I  must  say 
farewell— farewell  forever— my  lost,  lost  'Lena ! 

"  DUKWAED." 

Gradually  as  Mr.  Graham  read,  he  felt  a  glow  of  indig 
nation  at  Durward's  hastiness.  .  "  Rash  boy !  he  might  at 
least  have  spoken  with  me,"  said  he,  as  he  finished  tha 


•LENA'S   FATHER.  S70 

letter,  but  'Lena  would  hear  no  word  of  censure  against 
him.  She  did  not  blame  him.  She  saw  it  all,  understood 
it  all,  and  as  she  recalled  the  contents  of  his  letter,  her 
own  heart  sadly  echoed,  "  lost  forever." 

As  well  as  he  was  able,  Mr.  Graham  tried  to  comfort 
her,  but  in  spite  of  his  endeavors,  there  was  stih1  at  her 
heart  the  same  dull,  heavy  pain,  and  most  anxiously  Mr. 
Graham  watched  her,  waiting  impatiently  for  the  timo 
when  she  would  be  able  to  start  for  home,  as  he  hoped  a 
change  of  place  and  scene  would  do  much  toward  restor 
ing  both  her  health  and  spirits.  Soon  after  his  arrival  at 
Laurel  Hill,  Mr.  Graham  had  written  to  Mr.  Livingstone, 
telling  him  what  he  had  before  told  his  wife,  and  adding, 
"  Of  course,  my  daughter^  home  will  in  future  be  with 
me,  at  Woodlawn,  where  I  shall  be  happy  to  see  yourself 
and  family  at  any  time." 

This  part  of  the  letter  he  showed  to  'Lena,  who,  after 
reading  it,  seemed  for  a  long  time  absorbed  in  thought. 

"  What  is  it,  darling  ?  Of  what  are  you  thinking  ?  " 
Mr.  Graham  asked,  at  length,  and  'Lena,  taking  the  hand 
which  he  had  laid  gently  upon  her  forehead,  replied,  "  I 
am  thinking  of  poor  grandmother.  She  is  not  happy, 
now,  at  Maple  Grove.  She  will  be  more  unhappy  should 
I  leave  her,  and  if  you  please,  I  would  rather  stay  there 
with  her.  I  can  see  you  every  day." 

"  Do  you  suppose  me  cruel  enough  to  separate  you 
from  your  grandmother  ? "  interrupted  Mr.  Graham. 
"  No,  no,  I  am  not  quite  so  bad  as  that.  Woodlawn  is 
large — there  are  rooms  enough — and  grandma  shall  have 
her  choice,  provided  it  is  a  reasonable  one."  '  . 

"  And  your  wife — Mrs.  Graham  ?  What  will  she  say  ?  " 
timidly  inquired  'Lena,  involuntarily  shrinking  from  the 
very  thought  of  coming  in  contact  with  the  little  lady; 


380  'LENA  RIVERS. 

who  had  so  recently  come  up  before  her  in  the  new  and 
formidable  aspect  of  step-mother! 

Mr.  Graham  did  not  know  himself  what  she  would  say, 
neither  did  he  care.  The  fault  of  his  youth  once  con 
fessed,  he  felt  himself  a  new  man,  able  to  cope  with  al 
most  anything,  and  if  in  the  future  his  wife  objected  to 
what  he  knew  to  be  right,  it  would  do  her  no  good,  for 
henceforth  he  was  to  rule  his  own  house.  Some  such 
thoughts  passed  through  his  mind,  but  it  would  not  be 
proper,  he  knew,  to  express  himself  thus  to  'Lena,  so  he 
laughingly  replied,  "  Oh,  we'll  fix  that,  easily  enough." 

At  the  time  he  wrote  to  Mr.  Livingstone,  he  had  also 
sent  a  letter  to  his  wife,  announcing  his  safe  return  from 
Europe,  and  saying  that  he  should  be  at  home  as  soon  as 
'Lena's  health  would  admit  of  her  traveling.  Not  wish 
ing  to  alarm  her  unnecessarily,  he  merely  said  of  Dur- 
ward,  that  he  had  found  him  at  Laurel  Hill.  To  this  let 
ter  Mrs.  Graham  replied  immediately,  and  with  a  far  bet 
ter  grace  than  her  husband  had  expected.  Very  frankly 
she  confessed  the  unkind  part  she  had  acted  toward  'Le 
na,  and  while  she  said  she  was  sorry,  she  also  sgooke  of  the 
reaction  which  had  taken  place  in  the  minds  of  Lena's 
friends,  who,  she  said,  would  gladly  welcome  her  back. 

The  continued  absence  of  Durward  was  now  the  only 
drawback  to  'Lena's  happiness,  and  with  a  comparatively 
light  heart,  she  began  to  anticipate  her  journey  home. 
Most  liberally  did  Mr.  Graham  pay  for  both  himself  and 
'Lena,  and  Uncle  Timothy,  as  he  counted  the  shining  coin, 
dropping  it  upon  the  table  to  make  sure  it  was  not  bogus, 
felt  quite  reconciled  to  his  recent  loss  of  fifty  dollars. 
Jerry,  the  driver,  was  also  generously  rewarded  for  his 
kindness  to  the  stranger-girl,  and  just  before  he  left,  Mr. 
Graham  offered  to  make  him  his  chief  overseer,  if  he 
would  accompany  him  to  Kentucky. 


EXCITEMENT  AT  MAPLE  GROVE.  381 

"  You  are  just  the  man  I  want,"  said  he,  "  and  I  know 
you'll  like  it.  What  do  you  say  ?  " 

For  the  sake  of  occasionally  seeing  'Lena,  whom  he 
considered  as  something  more  than  mortal,  Jerry  would 
gladly  have  gone,  but  he  was  a  staunch  abolitionist,  dyed 
in  the  wool,  and  scratching  his  head,  he  replied,  "I'm 
obleeged  to  you,  but  I  b'lieve  I'd  rather  drive  hosses  than 


"  Mebby  you  could  run  one  on  'em  off,  and  so  make  a 
little  suinthin',"  slily  whispered  Uncle  Timothy,  his  eyes 
always  on  the  main  chance,  but  it  was  no  part  of  Jerry's 
creed  to  make  anything,  and  as  'Lena  at  that  moment  ap 
peared,  he  beat  a  precipitate  retreat,  going  out  behind 
the  church,  where  he  watched  the  departure  of  his  south 
ern  friends,  saying  afterward,  to  Mrs.  Aldergrass,  who 
eluded  him  for  his  conduct,  that  "  he  never  could  bid  no 
body  good-by,  he  was  so  darned  tender-hearted ! " 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 

EXCITEMENT    AT    MAPLE    GROVE. 

"'LENA  been  gone  four  weeks  and  father  never  strirred 
a  peg  after  her  !  That  is  smart,  I  must  say.  Why  didn't 
you  let  me  know  it  before  !  "  exclaimed  John  Jr.,  as  he 
one  morning  unexpectedly  made  his  appearance  at  Maple 
Grove. 

During  his  absence  Carrie  had  been  his  only  corres 
pondent,  and  for  some  reason  or  other  she  delayed  telling 
him  of  'Lena's  flight  until  quite  recently.  Instantly  for- 


382  'LENA  RIVERS. 

getting  his  resolution  of  not  returning  for  a  year,  he  came 
home  with  headlong  haste,  determining  to  start  immedi 
ately  after  his  cousin. 

"  I  reckon  if  you  knew  all  that  has  been  said  about  her, 
you  wouldn't  feel  quite  so  anxious  to  get  her  back,"  said 
Carrie.  "For  my  part,  I  feel  quite  relieved  at  hei 
absence." 

"  Shut  up  your  head,"  roared  John  Jr.  "  'Lena  is  no 
more  guilty  than  you.  By  George,  I  'most  cried  when  I 
heard  how  nobly  she  worked  to  save  Anna  from  old 
Baldhead.  And  this  is  her  reward  !  Gracious  Peter  !  I 
sometimes  wish  there  wasn't  a  woman  in  the  world ! " 

"  If  they'd  all  marry  you,  there  wouldn't  be  long ! '' 
retorted  Carrie. 

"  Tou've  said  it  now,  haven't  you  ?  "  answered  John  Jr., 
while  his  father  suggested  that  they  stop  quarreling,  adding, 
as  an  apology  for  his  own  neglect,  that  Durward  had  gone 
after  'Lena,  who  was  probably  at  Mr.  Everett's,  and  that 
he  himself  had  advertised  in  all  the  principal  papers. 

"  Just  like  Bellmont !  He's  a  fine  fellow  and  deserves 
'Lena,  if  anybody  does,"  exclaimed  John  Jr.,  while  Car 
rie  chimed  in,  "  Pshaw !  I've  no  idea  he's  gone  for  her. 
Why,  they've  hardly  spoken  for  several  months,  and  be 
sides  that,  Mrs.  Graham  will  never  suffer  him  to  marry 
one  of  so  low  origin." 

"  The  deary  me  ! "  said  John  Jr.,  mimicking  his  sister's 
manner,  u  how  much  lower  is  her  origin  than  yours  ?" 

Carrie's  reply  was  prevented  by  the  appearance  of  her 
grandmother,  who,  hearing  that  John  Jr.  was  there,  had 
hobbled  in  to  see  him.  Perfectly  rational  on  all  other 
subjects,  Mrs.  Nichols  still  persisted  in  saying  of  'Lena, 
that  she  had  killed  her,  and  now,  when  her  first  greeting 
with  John  Jr.  was  over,  she  whispered  in  his  ear,  "  Have 
they  told  you  'Leny  was  dead  ?  She  is — I  killed  her — it 


EXCITEMENT  AT  MAPLE  GROVE.  383 

Bays  so  here,"  and  she  handed  him  the  almost  worn-out 
note  which  she  constantly  carried  with  her.  Rough  as  he 
seemed  at  times,  there  was  in  John  Jr.'s  nature  many  a 
tender  spot,  and  when  he  saw  the  look  of  childish  imbe 
cility  on  his  grandmother's  face,  he  pressed  his  strong 
arm  around  her,  and  a  tear  actually  dropped  upon  her 
gray  hair  as  he  told  her  'Lena  was  not  dead — he  was  go 
ing  to  find  her  and  bring  her  home.  At  that  moment 
old  Caesar,  who  had  been  to  the  post-office,  returned, 
bringing  Mr.  Graham's  letter,  which  had  just  arrived. 

"  That's  Mr.  Graham's  handwriting,"  said  Carrie,  glan 
cing  at   the  superscription.     "  Perhaps  he  knows  some 
thing  of  'Lena  !  "  and  she  looked  meaningly  at  her  moth 
er,   who,  with   a  peculiar  twist  of  her  mouth,  replied 
"  Very  likely." 

"  You  are  right.  He  does  know  something  of  her," 
said  Mr.  Livingstone,  as  he  finished  reading  the  letter. 
"  She  is  with  him  at  a  little  village  called  Laurel  Hill, 
somewhere  in  New  York." 

"  There  !  I  told  you  so.  Poor  Mrs.  Graham.  It  will 
kill  her.  I  must  go  and  see  her  immediately,"  exclaimed 
Mrs.  Livingstone,  settling  herself  back  quite  composedly 
in  her  chair,  while  Carrie,  turning  to  her  brother,  asked 
"  what  he  thought  of  'Lena  now." 

"  Just  what  I  always  did,"  he  replied.  «  There's  fraud 
somewhere.  Will  you  let  me  see  that,  sir?  "  advancing 
toward  his  father,  who,  placing  the  letter  in  his  hand" 
walked  to  the  window  to  hide  the  varied  emotions  of  his 
face. 

Rapidly  John  Jr.  perused  it,  comprehending  the  whole  ; 
then,  when  it  was  finished,  he  seized  his  hat,  and  throw 
ing  it  up  in  the  ai-r,  shouted,  «  Hurrah  !  Hurrah  for  Miss 
'Lena  Risers  Graham,  daughter  of  the  Honorable  Har 
ry  Riv  rs  Graham.  I  was  never  so  glad  in  my  life, 


3S4  'LENA   RIVERS. 

Hurrah !  "  and  again  the  hat  went  up,  upsetting  in  its  de 
scent  a  costly  vase,  the  fragments  of  which  followed  in 
the  direction  of  the  hat,  as  the  young  man  capered  about 
the  room,  perfectly  insane  with  joy. 

"  Is  the  boy  crazy  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Livingstone,  catching 
him  by  the  coat  as  he  passed  her,  while  Carrie  attempted 
to  snatch  the  letter  from  his  hand. 

"  Crazy  ? yes,"  said  he.     "  Who  do  you  think  'Lena's 

father  is?  No  less  a  person  than  Mr.  Graham  himself! 
Now  taunt  her  again,  Cad,  with  her  low  origin,  if  you 
like.  She  isn't  coming  here  to  live  any  more.  She's 
going  to  Woodlawn.  She'll  marry  Durward,  while  you'll 
be  a  cross,  dried-up  old  maid,  eh,  Cad?  "  and  he  chucked 
her  under  the  chin,  while  she  began  to  cry,  bidding  him 
let  her  alone. 

"  What  do  you  mean  ?  "  interposed  Mrs.  Livingstone, 
trembling  lest  it  might  be  true. 

"I  will  read  the  letter  and  you  can  judge  for  yourself," 
replied  John. 

Both  Carrie  and  her  mother  were  too  much  astonished 
to  utter  a  syllable,  while,  in  their  hearts,  each  hoped  it 
would  prove  untrue.  Bending  forward,  grandma  had 
listened  eagerly,  her  dim  eye  lighting  up  as  she  occasion 
ally  caught  the  meaning  of  what  she  heard  ;  but  she  could 
not  understand  it  at  once,  and  turning  to  her  son,  she 
said,  "  What  is  it,  John  ?  what  does  it  mean  ?  " 

As  well  as  they  could,  Mr.  Livingstone  and  John  Jr. 
explained  it  to  her,  and  when  at  length  she  comprehended 
it,  in  her  own  peculiar  way  she  exclaimed,  "  Thank  God 
that  'Leny  is  a  lady,  at  last— as  good  as  the  biggest  on 
'em.  Oh,  I  wish  Helleny  had  lived  to  know  who  her  hus- 
band  was.  Poor  critter !  Mebby  he'll  give  me  money 
to  go  back  and  see  the  old  place,  once  more,  afore  I  die." 
"If  he  don't  I  will,"  said  Mr.  Livingstone,  upon  which 


EXCITEMENT  AT  MAPLE  GROVE.  3R5 

his  wife,  who  had  not  spoken  before,  wondered  "  whei  o 
he'd  get  it." 

By  this  time  Carrie  had  comforted  herself  with  the  as 
surance,  that  as  'Lena  was  now  Durward's  sister,  he  would 
not,  of  course,  marry  her,  and  determining  to  make  the 
best  of  it,  she  replied  to  her  brother,  who  rallied  her  on 
her  crest-fallen  looks,  that  he  was  greatly  mistaken,  for 
"  she  was  as  pleased  as  any  one  at  'Lena's  good  fortune, 
but  it  did  not  follow  that  she  must  make  a  fool  of  herself] 
as  some  others  did." 

The  closing  part  of  this  remark  was  lost  on  John  Jr., 
who  had  left  the  room.  In  the  first  excitement,  he  had 
thought  "how  glad  Nellie  will  be,"  and  acting,  as  he 
generally  did,  upon  impulse,  he  now  ordered  his  horse 
and  dashing  off  at  full  speed,  as  usual,  surprised  Nellie,  first 
with  his  sudden  appearance,  second,  with  his  announce 
ment  of  'Lena's  parentage,  and  third,  by  an  offer  of 
himself! 

"It's  your  destiny,"  said  he,  "and  it's  of  no  use  to  re- 
sist.  What  did  poor  little  Meb  die  for,  if  it  wasn't  to 
make  room  for  you.  So  you  may  as  well  say  yes  first  as 
last.  I'm  odd,  I  know,  but  you  can  fix  me  over.  I'll  do 
exactly  what  you  wish  me  to.  Say  yes,  Nellie,  won't 
you  ?  " 

And  Nellie  did  say  yes,  wondering,  the  wHI,,  *  G-rer 
before  woman  had  such  wooing.  We  think  not,  for  never 
was  there  another  John  Jr. 

"  I  have  had  happiness  enough  for  one  day,"  said  he 
kissing  her  blushing  cheek  and  hurrying  away 

As  if  every  hitherto  neglected  duty  were  now  suddenly 
remembered,  he  went  straight  from  Mr.  Douglass'  to  the 
marble  factory,  where  he  ordered  a  costly  stone  for  the 
ttle  grave  on  the  sunny  slope,  as  yet  unmarked  save  by 
the  tall  grass  and  rank  weeds  which  grew  above  it 
U  25 


886  'LENA  RIVERS. 

"  What  inscription  will  you  have  ?  "  asked  the  engraver. 
John  Jr.  thought  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied, 
"  Simply  l  Mabel.'  Nothing  more  nor  less  ;  that  tells  the 
whole  story,"  and  involuntarily  murmuring  to  himself, 
"  Poor  little  Meb,  I  wish  she  knew  how  happy  I  am,"  he 
started  for  home,  where  he  was  somewhat  surprised  to 
find  Mrs.  Graham. 

She  had  also  received  a  letter  from  her  husband,  and 
deeming  secrecy  no  longer  advisable,  had  come  over  to 
Maple  Grove,  where,  to  her  great  satisfaction,  she  found 
that  the  news  had  preceded  her.  Feeling  sure  that  Mrs. 
Graham  must  feel  greatly  annoyed,  both  Carrie  and  her 
mother  began,  at  first,  to  act  the  part  of  consolers,  telling , 
her  it  might  not  be  true,  after  all,  for  perhaps  it  was  a 
ruse  of  Mr.  Graham's  to  cover  some  deep-laid  scheme. 
But  for  once  in  her  life  Mrs.  Graham  did  well,  and  to 
their  astonishment,  replied,  "  Oh,  I  hope  not,  for  you  do 
not  know  how  I  long  for  the  society  of  a  daughter,  and 
as  Mr.  Graham's  child  I  shall  gladly  welcome  'Lena  home, 
trying,  if  possible,  to  overlook  the  vulgarity  of  her  family 
friends ! " 

Though  wincing  terribly,  neither  Mrs.  Livingstone  nor 
her  daughter  were  to  be  outgeneraled.  If  Mrs.  Graham 
could  so  soon  change  her  tactics,  so  could  they,  and  for 
the  next  half  hour  they  lauded  'Lena  to  the  skies.  They 
had  always  liked  her— particularly  Mrs.  Livingstone-,— 
who  said,  "  If  allowed  to  speak  my  mind,  Mrs.  Graham,  I 
must  say  that  I  have  felt  a  good  deal  pained  by  those  re 
ports  which  you  put  in  circulation." 

"  I  put  reports  in  circulation  \  "  retorted  Mrs.  Graham. 
"  What  do  you  mean  ?  It  was  yourself,  madam,  as  I  can 
prove  by  the  whole  neighborhood  !  " 

The  war  of  words  was  growing  sharper  and  more  per 
sonal,  when  John  Jr*'s  appearance  put  an  end  tc  it>,  and 


EXCITEMENT  AT  MAPLE  GROVE.  381 

thn  two  ladies,  thinking  they  might  as  well  be  friends  as 
enemies,  introduced  another  topic  of  conversation,  soon 
after  which  Mrs.  Graham  took  her  leave.  Pausing  in  the 
door-way,  she  said,  "Would  it  afford  you  any  gratifica 
tion  to  be  at  Woodlawn  when  'Lena  arrives  ?  " 

Knowing  that,  under  the  circumstances,  it  would  look 
better,  Mrs.  Livingstone  said  "yes,"  while  Carrie,  think 
ing  Durward  would  be  there,  made  a  similar  reply,  say 
ing  "  she  was  exceedingly  anxious  to  see  her  cousin." 

"  Very  well.  I  will  let  you  know  when  I  expect  her," 
said  Mrs.  Graham,  curtsying  herself  from  the  room. 

"  Spell  Toady,  Cad,"  whispered  John  Jr.,  and  with  more 
than  her  usual  quickness,  Carrie  replied,  by  doing  as  he 
desired. 

"That'll  do,"  said  he,  as  he  walked  off  to  the  back 
yard,  where  he  found  the  younger  portion  of  the  blacks 
engaged  in  a  rather  novel  employment  for  them. 

^The  news  of  'Lena's  good  fortune  had  reached  the 
kitchen,  causing  much  excitement,  for  she  was  a  favorite 
there. 

"'Clar  for't,»said  Aunt  Milly,  "we  orto  have  a  bon 
fire.  It  won't  hurt  nothin'  on  the  brick  pavement." 

Accordingly,  as  it  was  now  dark,  the  children  were  set 
at  work  gathering  blocks,  chips,  sticks,  dried  twigs,  and 
leaves,  and  by  the  time  John  Jr.  appeared,  they  had  col- 
lected  quite  a  pile.  Not  knowing  how  he  would  like  it, 
they  all  took  to  their  heels,  except  Thomas  Jefferson,  who' 
having  some  of  his  mother's  spirit,  stood  his  ground,  re 
plying,  when  asked  what  they  were  about,  that  they  were 
"gwine  to  celebrate  Miss  'Lena."  Taking  in  the  whole 
fun  at  once,  John  Jr.  called  out,  "  Good !  come  back  here, 
you  scapegraces." 

^  Scarcely  had  he  uttered  these  words,  when   from  be- 
hind  the  ley-leach,  the  smoke-house,  and  the  trees,  emerged 


388  'LENA  RIVERS. 

the  little  darkies,  their  eyes  and  ivories  shining  with  the 
expected  frolic.  Taught  by  John  Jr.,  they  hurrahed  at  the 
top  of  their  voices  when  the  flames  burst  up,  and  one  little 
fellow,  not  yet  able  to  talk  plain,  made  his  bare,  shining 
legs  fly  like  drumsticks  as  he  shouted,  "  Huyah  for  Miss 
'Leny  Yivers  Gay  urn — " 

"  Bellmont,  too,  say,"  whispered  John  Jr.,  as  he  saw 
Carrie  on  the  back  piazza. 

"  JBellmont  too,  say  !  "  yelled  the  youngster,  leaping  s<r 
high  as  to  lose  his  balance. 

Boiling  over  the  green-sward  like  a  ball,  he  landed  at 
the  feet  of  Carrie,  who,  spurning  him  as  she  would  a  toad, 
went  back  to  the  parlor,  where  for  more  than  an  hour  she 
cried  from  pure  vexation. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI. 

ARRIVAL     AT     WOODLAWN. 

IT  was  a  warm  September  night  at  Woodlawn.  The 
windows  were  open,  and  through  the  richly-wrought  cur 
tains  the  balmy  air  of  evening  was  stealing,  mingling  its 
delicious  perfume  of  flowers  without  with  the  odor  of 
those  which  drooped  from  the  many  costly  vases  which 
adorned  the  handsome  parlors.  Lamps  were  burning, 
casting  a  mellow  light  over  the  gorgeous  furniture,  while 
in  robes  of  snowy  white  the  mistress  of  the  mansion  flitted 
from  room  to  room,  a  little  nervous,  a  little  fidgety,  and, 
without  meaning  to  be  so,  a  little  cross.  For  more  than 
two  hours  she  had  waited  for  her  husband,  delaying  the 
supper,  which  the  cook,  quite  as  anxious  as  herself,  pro 
nounced  spoiled  by  the  delay. 

According  to  promise,  the  party  from  Maple  Grove  had 


ARRIVAL  AT  W00DLAW&  38o 

arrived,  with  the  exception  of  John  Jr.,  who  had  gener 
ously  remained  with  his  grandmother,  she  having  been 
purposely  omitted  in  the  invitation.  From  the  first,  Mrs. 
Graham  had  decided  that  Mrs.  Nichols  should  never  live 
at  Woodlawn,  and  she  thought  it  proper  to  have  it  un 
derstood  at  once.  Accordingly,  as  she  was  conducting 
Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie  to  'Lena's  room,  she  casually 
remarked,  "  I've  made  no  provision  for  Mrs.  Nichols,  ex 
cept  as  an  occasional  visitor,  for  of  course  she  will  remain 
with  her  son.  She  is  undoubtedly  much  attached  to  your 
family,  and  will  be  happier  there !  " 

"  This  'Lena's!"  interrupted  Carrie,  ero  her  mother 
had  time  to  reply.  "  It's  the  very  best  chamber  in  the 
house— Brussels  carpets,  marble  and  rosewood  furniture, 
damask  curtains.  Why,  she'll  hardly  know  how  to  act," 
she  continued,  half  unconsciously,  as  she  gazed  around  the 
elegant  apartment,  which,  with  one  of  her  unaccountable 
freaks,  Mrs.  Graham  had  fitted  up  with  the  utmost  taste. 

"  Yes,  this  is  'Lena's,"  said  Mrs.  Graham,  complacently. 
"  Will  it  compare  at  all  with  her  chamber  at  Maple  Grove  ? 
I  do  not  wish  it  to  seem  inferior !  " 

"  Carrie  bit  her  lip,  while  her  mother  very  coolly  re 
plied,  "  Yc-es,  on  the  whole  quite  as  good,  perhaps  better, 
as  some  of  the  furniture  is  new !  " 

"  Have  I  told  you,"  continued  Mrs.  Graham,  bent  on 
tormenting  them,  "  Have  I  told  you  that  we  are  to  spend 
the  winter  in  New  Orleans,  where  'Lena  will  of  course  be 
the  reigning  belle  ?  You  ought  to  be  there,  dear,"  laying 
her  hand  on  Carrie's  shoulder.  "  It  would  be  so  gratify 
ing  to  you  to  witness  the  sensation  she  will  create !" 

"  Spiteful  old  thing— she  tries  to  insult  us,"  thought  Car. 
ne,  her  heart  swelling  with  bitterness  toward  the  ever-hated 
'Lena,  whose  future  life  seemed  so  bright  and  joyous. 

The   sound  of  wheels  was  now  heard,  and  the  ladies 


390  'LENA  RIVERS. 

reached  the  lower  hall  just  as  the  carriage,  which  had 
been  sent  to  the  station  at  Midway,  drove  up  at  a  side 
door.  Carrie's  first  thought  was  for  Durward,  and  sha 
ding  her  eyes  with  her  hand,  she  looked  anxiously  out. 
But  only  Mr.  Graham  alighted,  gently  lifting  out  his 
daughter,  who  was  still  an  invalid. 

"  Mighty  careful  of  her,"  thought  Mrs.  Livingstone,  as 
m  his  arms  he  bore  her  up  the  marble  steps. 

Depositing  her  in  their  midst,  and  placing  his  arm 
around  her,  he  said,  turning  to  his  wife,  "  Lucy,  this  is  my 
daughter.  Will  you  receive  and  love  her  as  such,  for  my 
sake  ?  " 

In  a  moment  'Lena's  soft,  white  hand  lay  in  the  fat, 
chubby  one  of  Mrs.  Graham,  who  kissed  her  pale  cheek, 
calling  her  "  'Lena,"  and  saying  "  she  was  welcome  to 
VYoodlawn." 

Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie  now  pressed  forward,  over 
whelming  her  with  caresses,  telling  her  how  badly  they 
had  felt  at  her  absence,  chiding  her  for  running  away, 
calling  her  a  naughty  puss,  and  perfectly  bewildering  her 
with  their  new  mode  of  conduct.  Mr.  Livingstone's  turn 
came  next,  but  he  neither  kissed  nor  caressed  her,  for 
that  was  not  in  keeping  with  his  nature,  but  very,  very 
tenderly  he  looked  into  her  eyes,  as  he  said,  "  You  know, 
'Lena,  that  Jam  glad— most  glad  for  you." 

Unostentatious  as  was  this  greeting,  »J^«  felt  that 
there  was  more  sincerity  in  it  than  all  that  had  gone  be 
fore,  and  the  tears  gushed  forth  involuntarily.  Mentally 
styling  her,  the  one  "  a  baby,"  and  the  other  "  a  fool," 
Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie  returned  to  the  parlor,  while 
Mrs.  Graham,  calling  a  servant,  bade  her  show  'Lena  to 

her  room. 

"  Hadn't  you  better  go  up  and  assist  your  cousin," 
whispered  Mrs.  Livingstone  to  Carrie,  who  forthwith  de- 


ARRIVAL  AT  WOODLAWN.  391 

parted,  knocking  at  the  door,  an  act  of  politeness  she  had 
never  before  thought  it  necessary  to  offer  'Lena.  But 
she  was  an  heiress,  now,  fully,  yes,  more  than  equal,  and 
that  made  a  vast  difference. 

"  I  came  to  see  if  I  could  render  you  any  service,"  she 
said,  in  answer  to  'Lena's  look  of  inquiry. 

44  No  I  thank  you,"  returned  'Lena,  beginning  to  get  an 
inkling  of  the  truth.  '4  You  know  I'm  accustomed  to 
waiting  upon  myself,  and  if  I  wau't  anything,  Drusa  can 
assist  me.  I've  only  to  change  my  soiled  dress  and  smooth 
my  hair,"  she  continued,  as  she  shook  out  her  long  and  now 
rather  rough  tresses. 

44  What  handsome  hair  you've  got,"  said  Carrie,  taking 
one  of  the  curls  in  her  hand.  "  I'd  forgotten  it  was  so 
beautiful.  Hasn't  it  improved  during  your  absence  ?  " 

44  A  course  of  fever  is  not  usually  very  beneficial  to 
one's  hair,  I  believe,"  answered  'Lena,  as  she  proceeded 
to  brush  and  arrange  her  wavy  locks,  which  really  had 
lost  some  of  their  luster. 

Foiled  in  her  attempt  at  toadyism,  Carrie  took  another 
tack.  Looking  'Lena  in  the  face,  she  said,  "  What  is  it  ? 
I  can't  make  it  out,  but — but  somehow  you've  changed ; 
you  don't  look  so — so — " 

44  So  well  you  would  say,  I  suppose,"  returned  'Lena, 
laughingly,  "  I've  grown  thin,  but  I  hope  to  improve  by- 
and-by,"  fe 

Drusa  glanced  at  the  two  girls  as  they  stood  side  by 
side,  and  her  large  eyes  sparkled  as  she  thought  her  young 
mistress  "  a  heap  the  best  lookin'  now." 

By  this  time  Carrie  had  thought  to  ask  for  Durward. 
Instantly  'Lena  turned  whiter,  if  possible,  than  she  was 
before,  and  in  an  unsteady  voice  she  replied,  that  "  she 
did  not  know." 

"  Not  know ! "  repeated  Carrie,  her  own  countenance 


392  'LEXA   RIVE11S. 

brightening  visibly.     "Haven't  you  seen  him?     Wasn't 

he  at  that  funny,  out-of-the-way  place,  where  you  were  ?» 

"Yes,  but  he  left  before  I  saw  him,"  returned  'Lena,  her 

manner  plainly  indicating  that  there  was  something  wrong. 

Carrie's  spirits  rose.  There  was  a  chance  for  her,  and 
on  their  way  down  stairs  she  laughed  and  chatted  so  fa 
miliarly,  that  'Lena  wondered  if  it  could  be  the  same 
haughty  girl  who  had  seldom  spoken  to  her  except  to  re- 
pulse  or  command  her.  The  supper-bell  rang  just  as  they 
reached  the  parlor,  and  Mr.  Graham,  taking  'Lena  on  his 
arm,  led  the  way  to  the  dining-room,  where  the  entire  sil 
ver  tea-set  had  been  brought  out,  in  honor  of  the  occasion. 
'Hasn't  'Lena  changed,  mother?  »  said  Carrie,  feeling 
hat  eful,  and  knowing  no  better  way  of  showing  it.  "  Hasn't 
her  sickness  changed  her  ?  " 

"  It  has  made  her  grow  old  ;  that's  all  the  difference  I 
perceive,"  returned  Mrs.  Livingstone,  satisfied  that  she'd 
said  the  thing  which  she  knew  would  most  annoy  herself. 

"  How  old  are  you,  dear,"  asked  Mrs.  Graham,  leaning 
across  the  table. 

"  Eighteen,"  was  'Lena's  answer,  to  which  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  replied,  "  I  thought  so.  Three  years  younger  than 
Carrie,  I  believe." 

"  Two,  only  two,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Livingstone,  while 
Carrie  exclaimed,  "  Horrors  !  How  old  do  you  take  me 
to  be." 

Adroitly  changing  the  conversation,  Mrs.  Graham  made 
no  reply,  and  soon  after  they  rose  from  the  table.  Scarce 
ly  had  they  returned  to  the  parlor,  when  John  Jr.  was 
announced.  "  He  had,"  he  said,  "  got  his  grandmother  to 
sleep  and  put  her  to  bed,  and  now  he  had  come  to  pay  his 
respects  to  Miss  Graham." 

Catching  her  in  his  arms,  he  exclaimed,  "Little  girl !  I'm 
as  much  delighted  with  your  good  fortune  as  I  should  bo 


ARRIVAL  AT  WOODLAWtf.  393 

had  it  happened  to  myself.     But  whe-e  is  Bellmont?  »  he 
continued,  looking  about  the  room. 

Mr.  Graham  replied  that  he  was  not  there. 

"  Not  here  ?  »  repeated  John  Jr.  «  What  have  you  done 
with  him,  'Lena  ?  " 

Lifting  her  eyes,  full  of  tears,  to  her  cousin's  face,  'Lena 
said,  softly,  "  Please  don't  talk  about  it  now." 

"There's  something  wrong,"  thought  John  Jr.  "I'll 
bet  I'll  have  to  shoot  that  dog  yet." 

'Lena  longed  to  pour  out  her  troubles  to  some  one,  and 
knowing  she  could  confide  in  John  Jr.,  she  soon  found  an 
opportunity  of  whispering  to  him,  "  Come  to-morrow,  arid 
I  will  tell  you  all  about  it." 

Between  ten  and  eleven  the  company  departed,  Mrs. 
Livingstone  and  Carrie  taking  a  most  affectionate  leave 
of  'Lena,  urging  her  not  to  fail  of  coming  over  the  next 
day,  as  they  should  be  expecting  her.  The  ludicrous  ex 
pression  of  John  Jr.'s  face  was  a  sufficient  interpretation 
of  his  thoughts,  as  whispering  aside  to  'Lena,  he  said,  "  I 
can't  do  it  justice  if  I  try !  " 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Graham  got  out  his  carriage  to 
carry  'Lena  to  Maple  Grove,  asking  his  wife  to  accompany 
them.  But  she  excused  herself,  on  the  plea  of  a  headache, 
and  they  set  off  without  her.  The  meeting  between  'Le 
na  and  her  grandmother  was  affecting,  and  Carrie,  in  or 
der  to  sustain  the  character  she  had  assumed,  walked  to 
the  window,  to  hide  her  emotions,  probably— at  least 
John  Jr.  thought  so,  for  with  the  utmost  gravity,  he 
passed  her  his  silk  pocket  handkerchief!  When  the  first 
transports  of  her  interview  with  'Lena  were  over,  Mrs. 
Nichols  fastened  herself  upon  Mr.  Graham,  while  John 
Jr.  invited  'Lena  to  the  garden,  where  he  claimed  from 
her  the  promised  story,  wliich  she  told  him  unreservedly. 

"  Oh,   that's  nothing,  compared  with  my  experience," 


394  'LENA  RIVERS. 

said  John  Jr.,  plucking  at  the  rich,  purple  grapes  which 
hung  in  heavy  clusters  above  his  head.  "  That's  easily 
settled.  I'll  go  after  Durward  myself,  and  bring  him 
back,  either  dead  or  alive — the  latter  if  possible,  the  for 
mer  if  necessary.  So  cheer  up.  I've  faith  to  believe  that 
you  and  Durward  will  be  married  about  the  same  time 
that  Nellie  and  I  are.  We  are  engaged — did  I  tell  you  ?  " 

Involuntarily  'Lena's  eyes  wandered  in  the  direction  of 
the  sunny  slope  and  the  little  grave,  as  yet  but  nine 
months  made. 

"  I  know  what  you  think,"  said  John  Jr.  rather  testily, 
"  but  hang  me  if  I  can  help  it.  Meb  was  never  intended 
for  me,  except  by  mother.  I  suppose  there  is  in  the  world 
somebody  for  whom  she  was  made,  but  it  wasn't  I,  and 
that's  the  reason  she  died.  I  am  sorry  as  anybody,  and 
every  night  in  my  life  I  think  of  poor  Meb,  who  loved  me 
so  well,  and  who  met  with  so  poor  a  return.  I've 
bought  her  some  grave-stones,  though,"  he  continued,  a« 
if  that  were  an  ample  atonement  for  the  past. 

While  they  were  thus  occupied,  Mr.  Graham  was  dis 
cussing  with  Mrs.  Nichols  the  propriety  of  her  removing 
to  Woodlawn. 

"  I  shan't  live  long  to  trouble  anybody,"  said  she,  when 
asked  if  she  would  like  to  go,  "  and  I'm  nothin*  without 
'Leny." 

So  it  was  arranged  that  she  should  go  with  him,  and 
when  'Lena  returned  to  the  house,  she  found  her  grand 
mother  in  her  chamber,  packing  up,  preparatory  to  her 
departure. 

"We'll  have  to  come  agin',"  said  she,  "for  I've  as  much 
as  two  loads." 

"Don't  take  them,"  interposed  'Lena.  "You  won't 
need  them,  and  nothing  will  harm  them  here." 

After  a  little,  grandma  was  persuaded,  and  her  last 


ARRIVAL  AT  WOODLAWtf.  395 

charge  to  Mrs.  Livingstone  and  Carrie  was,  "  that  they 
keep  the  dum  niggers  from  her  things." 

Habit  with  Mrs.  Nichols  was  everything.  She  had 
lived  at  Maple  Grove  for  years,  and  every  niche  and  cor 
ner  of  her  room  she  understood.  She  knew  the  blacks 
and  they  knew  her,  and  ere  she  was  half-way  to  Wood- 
lawn,  she  began  to  wish  she  had  not  started.  Politely, 
but  coldly,  Mrs.  Graham  received  her,  saying,  "  I  thought, 
perhaps,  you  would  return  with  them  to  spend  the  day!" 
laying  great  emphasis  on  the  last  words,  as  if  that,  of 
course,  was  to  be  the  limit  of  her  visit.  Grandma  under 
stood  it,  and  it  strengthened  her  resolution  of  not  re 
maining  long. 

"  Miss  Graham  don't  want  to  be  pestered  with  me," 
said  she  to  'Lena,  the  first  time  they  were  alone,  "  and  I 
don't  mean  that  she  shall  be.  'Tilda  is  used  to  me,  and 
she  don't  mind  it  now,  so  I  shah1  go  back  afore  long.  You 
can  come  to  see  me  every  day,  and  once  in  a  while  I'll 
come  here." 

That  afternoon  a  heavy  rain  came  on,  and  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  remarked  to  Mrs.  Nichols  that  "  she  hoped  she  was 
not  homesick,  as  there  was  every  probability  of  her  being 
obliged  to  stay  over  night !  "  adding,  by  way  of  comfort, 
that  "she  was  going  to  Frankfort  the  next  day  to  make 
purchases  for  'Lena,  and  would  take  her  home." 

Accordingly,  the  next  morning  Mrs.  Livingstone  wa3 
not  very  agreeably  surprised  by  the  return  of  her  mother- 
in-law,  who,  Mrs.  Graham  said,  "  was  so  homesick  they 
couldn't  keep  her." 

That  night  when  Mrs.  Graham,  who  was  naturally  gen 
erous,  returned  from  'the  city,  she  left  at  Maple  Grove  a 
large  bundle  for  grandma,  consisting  of  dresses,  aprons, 
caps,  and  the  like,  which  she  had  purchased  as  a  sort  of 
peace-offering,  or  reward,  rather,  for  her  having  decamped 


39C  'LENA   RIVERS. 

so  quietly  from  Woodlawn.  But  the  poor  old  lady  did 
not  live  to  wear  them.  Both  her  mind  and  body  were 
greatly  impaired,  and  for  two  or  three  years  she  had  been 
failing  gradually.  There  was  no  particular  disease,  but  a 
general  breaking  up  of  the  springs  of  life,  and  a  few 
weeks  after  'Lena's  arrival  at  Woodlawn,  they  made  an 
other  grave  on  the  sunny  slope,  and  Mabel  no  longer 
slept  alone. 


CHAPTER  XXXVH. 

DUE  W  AKD. 


FROM  place  to  place  and  from  scene  to  scene  Durward 
had  hurried,  caring  nothing  except  to  forget,  if  possible, 
the  past,  and  knowing  not  where  he  was  going,  until  he 
at  last  found  himself  in  Richmond,  Virginia.  This  was 
his  mother's  birth-place,  and  as  several  of  her  more  dis 
tant  relatives  were  still  living  here,  he  determined  to  stop 
for  awhile,  hoping  that  new  objects  and  new  scenes  would 
have  some  power  to  rouse  him  from  the  lethargy  into 
which  he  had  fallen.  Constantly  in  terror  lest  he  should 
hear  of  'Lena's  disgrace,  which  he  felt  sure  would  be  pub 
lished  to  the  world,  he  had,  since  his  departure  from  Lau 
rel  Hill,  resolutely  refrained  from  looking  in  a  newspaper, 
until  one  morning  some  weeks  after  his  arrival  at  Richmond. 

Entering  a  reading-room,  he  caught  up  the  Cincinnati 
Gazette,  and  after  assuring  himself  by  a  hasty  glance  that 
it  did  not  contain  what  he  so  much  dreaded  to  see,  he  sat 
down  to  read  it,  paying  no  attention  to  the  date,  which 
was  three  or  four  weeks  back.  Accidentally  he  cast  hia 
eye  over  the  list  of  arrivals  at  the  Burnet  House,  seeing 


DURWARD.  307 

among  them  the  names  of  "  Mr.  H.  R.  Graham,  and  Miss 
L.  R.  Graham,  Woodford  county,  Kentucky ! " 

"  Audacious  1  How  dare  they  be  so  bold !  "  he  ex 
claimed,  springing  to  his  feet  and  tearing  the  paper  in 
fragments,  which  he  scattered  upon  the  floor. 

"  Considerable  kind  of  uppish,  'pears  to  me,"  said  a 
strange  voice,  having  in  its  tone  the  nasal  twang  peculiar 
to  a  certain  class  of  Yankees. 

Looking  up,  Durward  saw  before  him  a  young  man  in 
whose  style  of  dress  and  freckled  face  we  at  once  recog 
nize  Joel  Slocum.  Wearying  of  Cincinnati,  as  he  had  be 
fore  done  with  Lexington,  he  had  traveled  at  last  to  Vir 
ginia.  Remembering  to  have  heard  that  his  grandmoth 
er's  aunt  had  married,  died,  and  left  a  daughter  in  Rich- 
mond,  he  determined,  if  possible,  to  find  some  trace  of 
her.  Accordingly,  he  had  come  on  to  that  city,  making 
it  the  theater  of  his  daguerrean  operations.  These  alone 
*ot  being  sufficient  to  support  him,  he  had  latterly  turned 
his  attention  to  literary  pursuits,  being  at  present  engaged 
in  manufacturing  a  book  after  the  Sam  Slick  order, 
which,  to  use  his  own  expression,  "  he  expected  would 
have  a  thunderin'  sale." 

In  order  to  sustain  the  new  character  which  he  had  as 
sumed,  he  came  every  day  to  the  reading-room,  tumbling 
over  books  and  papers,  generally  carrying  one  of  the  for 
mer  in  his  hand,  affecting  an  utter  disregard  of  his  personal 
appearance,  daubing  his  fingers  with  ink,  wiping  them  on 
the  pocket  of  his  coat,  and  doing  numerous  other  things 
which  he  fancied  would  stamp  him  a  distinguished  person. 
^  On  the  morning  of  which  we  have  spoken,  Joel's  atten- 
tion  was  attracted  toward  Durward,  whose  daguerreotype 
he  had  seen  at  Maple  Grove,  and  though  he  did  not  re 
cognize  the  original,  he  fancied  he  might  have  met  him 
before,  and  was  about  making  his  acquaintance,  when 


898  'LENA  RIVERS. 

Durward' s  action  drew  from  him  the  remark  we  have 
mentioned.  Thinking  him  to  be  some  impertinent  fellow, 
Durward  paid  him  no  attention,  and  was  about  leaving, 
when,  hitching  his  chair  a  little  nearer,  Joel  said,  "  Be 
you  from  Virginny  ?  " 

"  No." 

"From  York  state?" 

"  No." 

"  From  Pennsylvany  ?  " 

"  No." 

"  Mebby,  then,  you  are  from  Kentucky  ?  " 

No  answer. 

"  Be  you  from  Kentucky  ?  " 

"Yes." 

"  Do  you  know  Mr.  Graham's  folks  ?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Durward,  trembling  lest  the  next  should 
be  something  concerning  his  step-father — but  it  was  not. 

Settling  himself  a  little  further  back  in  the  chair,  Joel 
continued :  "  Wall,  I  calkerlate  that  I'm  some  relation 
to  Miss  Graham.  Be  you  'quainted  with  her  ?  " 

Durward  knew  that  a  relationship  with  Mrs.  Graham 
also  implied  a  relationship  with  himself,  and  feeling  a  lit 
tle  curious  as  well  as  somewhat  amused,  he  replied,  "  Re 
lated  to  Mrs.  Graham !  Pray  how  ?  " 

"  Why,  you  see,"  said  Joel,  "  that  my  grandmarm's 
aunt — she  was  younger  than  grandmarm,  and  was  her 
aunt  tew.  Wall,  she  went  off  to  Virginia  to  teach  music, 
and  so  married  a  nabob — know  what  that  is,  I  s'pose ;  she 
had  one  gal  and  died,  and  this  gal  was  never  heard  from 
until  I  took  it  into  my  head  to  look  her  up,  and  I've  found 
out  that  she  was  Lucy  Temple.  She  married  an  English. 
man,  first— then  a  man  from  South  Carolina,  who  is  no^V 
twin'  in  Kentucky,  between  Versailles  and  Frankfort." 


DUE  WARD.  390 

"  What  was  your  grandmother's  aunt's  name  ?  "  asked 
Durward. 

"  Susan  'Howard,  returned  Joel.  "  The  Howards  were 
a  stuck-up  set,  grandmarm  and  all — not  a  bit  like  t'other 
side  of  the  family.  My  mother's  name  was  Scovandyke— » 

"And  yours?"  interrupted  Durward. 

"  Is  Joel  Slocum,  of  Slocumville,  Massachusetts,  at  your 
service,  sir,"  said  the  young  man,  rising  up  and  going 
through  a  most  wonderful  bow,  which  he  always  used  on 
great  occasions. 

In  a  moment  Durward  knew  who  he  was,  and  greatly 
amused,  he  said,  "  Can  you  tell  me,  Mr.  Slocum,  what  re- 
lation  this  Lucy  Temple,  your  great-great-aunt's  daughter, 
would  be  to  you  ?  " 

"  My  third  cousin,  of  course,"  answered  Joel.  "  I  fig- 
gered  that  out  with  a  slate  and  pencil." 

"  And  her  son,  if  she  had  one  ?  " 

"  Would  be  my  fourth  cousin ;  no  great  connection,  to 
be  sure— but  enough  to  brag  on,  if  they  happened  to  be 
smart ! " 

"  Supposing  I  tell  you  that  I  am  Lucy  Temple's  son  ?" 
said  Durward,  to  which  Joel,  not  the  least  suspicious,  re- 
plied,  "  Wall,  s'posin'  you  du ;  'twon't  make  it  so." 

"But  I  am,  really  and  truly,"  continued  Durward. 
"  Her  first  husband  was  a  Bellmont,  and  I  am  Durward 
Bellmont,  your  fourth  cousin,  it  seems." 

"Jehosiphat!  If  this  ain't  curis,"  exclaimed  Joe  , 
grasping  Durward's  hand.  "  How  do  you  du,  and  how  is 
your  marm.  And  do  you  know  Helleny  Rivers  ?  " 

Durward's  brow  darkened  as  he  replied  in  the  affirma 
tive,  while  Joel  continued:  "We  are  from  the  same 
town,  and  used  to  think  a  sight  of  each  other,  but  when 
I  seen  her  in  Kentucky,  I  thought  she'd  got  to  be  mighty 
toppin'.  Mebby,  though,  'twas  only  my  notion." 


400  'LENA    RIVER3. 

Durward  did  not  answer,  and  after  a  little  his  compan. 
ioii  said,  "  I  suppose  you  know  I  sometimes  take  picterg 
for  a  livin'.  I'm  goin'  to  my  office  now,  and  if  you'll  come 
with  me  I'll  take  yourn  for  nothin',  bein'  you're  related." 

Mechanically,  and  because  he  had  nothing  else  to  do, 
Durward  followed  the  young  man  to  his  "  office,"  which 
was  a  dingy,  cheerless  apartment  in  the  fourth  story  of  a 
crazy  old  building.  On  the  table  in  the  center  of  the 
room  were  several  likenesses,  which  he  carelessly  exam 
ined.  Coming  at  last  to  a  larger  and  richer  case,  he 
opened  it,  but  instantly  it  dropped  from  his  hand,  while 
an  exclamation  of  surprise  escaped  his  lips. 

"  What's  the  row,  old  feller,"  asked  Joel,  coming  for- 
ward  and  picking  up  the  picture  which  Durward  had  re* 
cognized  as  'Lena  Rivers. 

"  How  came  you  by  it  ?  "  said  Durward  eagerly,  and 
with  a  knowing  wink,  Joel  replied,  "  I  know,  and  that's 
enough." 

"But  I  must  know,  too.  It  is  of  the  utmost  import 
ance  that  I  know,"  said  Durward,  and  after  a  moment's 
reflection,  Joel  answered :  "  Wall,  I  don't  s'pose  it'll  do 
any  hurt  if  I  tell  you.  When  I  was  a  boy  I  had  a  hank- 
erin'  for  'Leny,  and  I  didn't  get  over  it  after  I  was  grown, 
either,  so  a  year  or  two  ago  I  thought  I'd  go  to  Kentuck 
and  see  her.  Knowin'  how  tickled  she  and  Mrs.  Nichols 
would  be  with  a  picter  of  their  old  home  in  the  moun 
tains,  I  took  it  for  'em  and  started.  In  Albany  I  went  to 
see  a  family  that  used  to  live  in  Slocumville.  The  woman 
was  a  gal  with  'Leny's  mother,  and  thought  a  sight  of  her. 
Wall,  in  the  chamber  where  they  put  me  to  sleep,  was  an 
old  portrait,  which  looked  so  much  like  'Leny,  that  in  the 
mornin'  I  asked  whose  it  was,  and  if  you  b'lieve  me,  'twas 
'Leny's  mother !  You  know  she  married,  or  thought  she 
aiarried,  a  southern  rascal,  who  got  her  portrait  taken  and 


DURTVARD.  401 

then  run  off,  and  the  picter,  which  in  its  day  was  an  ex- 
pensive  one,  was  sold  to  pay  up.  A  few  years  afterward, 
Miss  Rice,  the  woman  I  was  tellin'  you  about,  came  acrost 
it,  and  bought  it  for  a  little  or  nothin'  to  remember  Hel 
leny  Nichols  by.  Thinks  to  me,  nothin'  can  please  'Leny 
better  than  a  daguerreotype  of  her  mother,  so  I  out  with 
my  apparatus  and  took  it.  But  when  I  come  to  see  that 
they  were  as  nigh  alike  as  two  peas,  I  hated  to  give  it  up, 
for  I  thought  it  would  be  almost  as  good  as  lookin'  at 
'Leny.  So  I  kept  it  myself,  but  I  don't  want  her  to  know 
it,  for  she'd  be  mad." 

"  Did  you  ever  take  a  copy  f  this  for  any  one  ? '» 
asked  Durward,  a  faint  light  Beginning  to  dawn  upon 
him. 

"  What  a  feller  to  hang  on,"  answered  Joel,  "  but  bein' 
I've  started,  I'll  go  it  and  teU  the  hull.  One  morning 
when  I  was  in  Lexington,  a  gentleman  came  in,  calling 
himself  Mr.  Graham,  and  saying  he  wanted  a  copy  of  an 
old  mountain  house  which  he  had  seen  at  Mr.  Living 
stone's.  Whilst  I  was  gettin'  it  ready,  he  happened  to 
come  acrost  this  one,  and  what  is  the  queerest  of  all,  he 
like  to  fainted  away.  I  had  to  throw  water  in  his  face 
and  everything.  Bimeby  he  cum  to,  and  says  he, 
4  Where  did  you  get  that  ?'  I  told  him  all  about  it,  and 
then,  layin'  his  head  on  the  table,  he  groaned  orfully,  wi- 
pin'  off  the  thumpinest  great  drops  of  sweat,  and  kissin' 
the  picter  as  if  he  was  crazy." 

"  Mebby  you  knew  Helleny  Nichols  ?  "  says  I. 

"  Knew  her,  yes,"  says  he,  jumpin'  up  and  walkin'  the 
room  as  fast. 

"All  to  once  he  grew  calm,  just  as  though  nothin'  had 
happened,  and  says  he,  'I  must  have  that  or  one  jest  like  it.' 

"At  first  I  hesitated,  for  I  felt  kinder  mean  always 
about  keepin'  it,  and  I  didn't  want  'Leny  to  know  I'd  got 

26 


402  'LENA   RIVERS. 

it.  I  told  him  so,  and  lie  said  nobody  but  himself  should 
ever  see  it.  So  I  took  a  smaller  one,  leavin'  off  the  lower 
part  of  the  body,  as  the  dress  is  old-fashioned,  you  see. 
He  was  as  tickled  as  a  boy  with  a  new  top,  and  actually 
forgot  to  take  the  other  one  of  the  mountain  house. 
Some  months  after,  I  came  across  him  in  Cincinnati.  His 
wife  was  with  him,  and  I  thought  then  that  she  looked 
like  Aunt  Nancy.  "Wall,  he  went  with  me  to  my  office, 
and  said  he  wanted  another  daguerreotype,  as  he'd  lost 
the  first  one.  Now  I'm  pretty  good  at  figgerin',  and  I've 
thought  that  matter  over  until  I've  come  to  this  conclu 
sion — t/iat  man — was  -'Lena's  father — the  husband  or 
something  of  Helleny  Nichols!  But  what  ails  you? 
Are  you  faintin',  too,"  he  exclaimed,  as  he  saw  the  death 
like  whiteness  which  had  settled  upon  Durward's  face  and 
around  his  mouth. 

"Tell  me  more,  everything  you  know,"  gasped  Durward. 

"  I  have  told  you  all  I  know  for  certain,"  said  Joel.  " The 
rest  is  only  guess-work,  but  it  looks  plaguy  reasonable. 
'Leny's  father,  I've  heard,  was  from  South  Car'lina — " 

"So  was  Mr.  Graham,"  said  Durward,  more  to  himself 
than  to  Joel,  who  continued,  "  And  he's  your  step-father, 
ain't  he — the  husband  of  Lucy  Temple,  my  cousin  ?" 

Durward  nodded,  and  as  a  customer  just  then  came  in, 
he  arose  to  go,  telling  Joel  he  would  see  him  again. 
Alone  in  his  room,  he  sat  down  to  think  of  the  strange 
btory  he  had  heard.  Gradually  as  he  thought,  his  mind 
went  back  to  the  time  when  Mr.  Graham  first  came  home 
from  Springfield.  He  was  a  little  boy,  then,  five  or  six 
years  of  age,  but  he  now  remembered  many  things  calcu 
lated  to  prove  what  he  scarcely  yet  dared  to  hope.  He 
recalled  Mr.  Graham's  preparations  to  return,  when  he 
was  taken  suddenly  ill.  He  knew  that  immediately  after 
his  recovery  he  had  gone  northward.  He  remembered 


DURWARD.  40£ 

how  sad  he  had  seemed  after  his  return,  neglecting  to 
play  with  him  as  had  been  his  wont,  and  when  to  this  he 
added  Joel's  story,  together  with  the  singularity  of  his 
father's  conduct  toward  'Lena,  he  could  not  fail  to  be  con 
vinced. 

"  She  is  innocent,  thank  heaven !  I  see  it  all  now. 
Fool  that  I  was  to  be  so  hasty,"  he  exclaimed,  his  whole 
being  seeming  to  undergo  a  sudden  change  as  the  joyous 
conviction  flashed  upon  him 

In  his  excitement  he  forgot  his  promise  of  again  seeing 
Joel  Slocum,  and  ere  the  sun-setting  he  was  far  on  his 
road  home.  Occasionally  he  felt  a  lingering  doubt,  as  he 
wondered  what  possible  motive  his  father  could  have  had 
for  concealment,  but  these  wore  away  as  the  distance  be 
tween  himself  and  Kentucky  diminished.  As  the  train 
paused  at  one  of  the  stations,  he  was  greatly  surprised  at 
seeing  John  Jr.  among  the  crowd  gathered  at  the  depot. 

"  Livingstone,  Livingstone,  how  came  you  here  ?  " 
shouted  Durward,  leaning  from  the  open  window. 

The  cars  were  already  in  motion,  but  at  the  risk  of  his 
life  John  Jr.  bounded  upon  the  platform,  and  was  soon 
seated  by  the  side  of  Durward. 

You  are  a  great  one,  ain't  you  ?  "  said  he.  "  Here  I've 
been  looking  for  you  all  over  Christendom,  to  tell  you  the 
news.  You've  got  a  new  sister.  Did  you  know  it  ?  " 

"  'Lena  !  Is  it  true  ?  Is  it  'Lena  ?  "  said  Durward, 
and  John  replied  by  relating  the  particulars  as  far  as  he 
knew  them,  and  ending  by  asking  Durward  if  "he  didn't 
think  he  was  sold!  " 

"  Don't  talk,"  answered  Durward.    "  I  want  to  think 
for  I  was  never  so  happy  in  my  life." 

"  Nor  I  either,"  returned  John  Jr.  "  So  if  you  please 
you  needn't  speak  to  me,  as  I  wish  to  think,  too." 

But  John  Jr.  could  not  long  keep  still ;  lie  must  tell  hi? 


404  'LENA    RIVERS. 

companion  of  his  engagement  with  Nellie — and  he  did, 
falling  asleep  soon  after,  and  leaving  Durward  to  his  own 
reflections. 


CHAPTER  XXXYIH. 

CONCLUSION. 

hope  the  reader  does  not  expect  us  to  describe  the 
meeting  between  Durward  and  'Lena,  for  we  have  not  the 
least,  or,  at  the  most,  only  a  faint  idea  of  what  took  place. 
We  only  know  that  it  occurred  in  the  summer-house  at 
the  foot  of  the  garden,  whither  'Lena  had  fled  at  the  first 
intimation  of  his  arrival,  and  that  on  her  return  to  the 
house,  after  an  interview  of  two  whole  hours,  there  were 
on  her  cheeks  traces  of  tears,  which  the  expression  of  her 
face  said  were  not  tears  of  grief. 

"  How  do  you  like  my  daughter  ?  "  asked  Mr.  Graham, 
mischievously,  at  the  same  time  laying  his  arm  proudly 
about  her  neck. 

"  So  well  that  I  have  asked  her  to  becomemy  wife,  and  she 
has  promised  to  do  so,  provided  we  obtain  your  consent," 
answered  Durward,  himself  throwing  an  arm  around  the 
blushing  girl,  who  tried  to  escape,  but  he  would  not  let 
her,  holding  her  fast  until  his  father's  answer  was  given. 

Then  turning  to  Mrs.  Graham,  he  said,  "  Now,  mother, 
we  will  hear  you." 

Kind  and  affectionate  as  she  tried  to  be  toward  'Lena, 
Mrs.  Graham  had  not  yet  fully  conquered  her  olden  pre 
judice,  and  had  the  matter  been  left  wholly  with  herself, 
she  would,  perhaps,  have  chosen  for  her  son  a  bride  in 
whose  veins  no  plebeian  blood  was  flowing ;  but  she  weD 


CONCLUSION.  4u5 

knew  that  her  objections  would  have  no  weight,  what- 
sver,  and  very  wisely  she  answered,  that  "  she  should  in 
terpose  no  impediment  to  his  marriage  with  her  husband's 
daughter." 

"  Then  it  is  settled,"  said  he,  "  and  four  weeks  from 
to-night  I  shall  claim  'Lena  for  my  own." 

"No,  no,  not  so  soon  after  poor  grandma's  death," 
said  'Lena,  her  tears  flowing  afresh  at  the  mention  of  her 
loss. 

"  If  grandma  could  speak,  she  would  tell  you  not  to 
wait,"  urged  Durward ;  but  'Lena  was  decided,  and  the 
most  that  she  would  promise  was,  that  early  in  the  spring 
she  would  think  about  it ! 

"  Six  whole  months,"  said  Durward,  counting  them  oif 
upon  his  fingers.  "  I'll  never  wait  so  long  as  that !  "  but 
for  the  present  he  forebore  pressing  her  further  on  the 
subject,  consoling  himself  with  the  reflection  that  he 
should,  at  least,  have  her  in  the  house  with  him,  which 
would  in  a  great  measure  relieve  the  tedium  of  waiting 
the  prescribed  length  of  time. 

During  the  autumn,  his  entire  devotion  to  'Lena, 
whom  he  would  hardly  suffer  to  be  out  of  his  sight,  fur 
nished  Carrie  with  a  subject  for  very  many  ill-natured  re 
marks  concerning  the  "sickish  actions  of  newly  engaged 
people." 

"  I  declare,"  said  she,  one  evening  after  the  departure 
of  Durward,  'Lena,  and  Nellie,  who  had  all  been  spend, 
ing  the  day  at  Maple  Grove,  "  I  declare,  I'm  perfectly 
disgusted,  and  if  this  is  a  specimen,  I  hope  I  shall  never 
be  engaged." 

"  Pray  don't  give  yourself  a  moment's  uneasiness,"  re 
torted  John  Jr.,  for  whom  the  speech  was  partially  in 
tended.  "  I've  not  the  least  idea  that  such  a  calamity 
will  ever  befall  you,  and  years  hence  my  grandchildren 


406  'LENA    RIVERS. 

will  read  on  a  moss-grown  gravestone,  "  Sacred  to  the 
memory  of  Miss  Caroline  Livingstone,  aged  70.  In  sin 
gle  blessedness  she  lived — and  in  the  same  did  die !  " 

"  You  think  you  are  cunning,  don't  you,"  returned  Car- 
rie,  more  angry  than  she  was  willing  to  admit. 

She  had  received  news  of  Durward's  engagement  much 
better  than,  under  the  circumstances,  could  have  been  ex 
pected,  and  when  some  of  her  acquaintances  joked  heron 
the  subject,  asking  why  she  did  not  marry  Durward  her 
self,  she  replied,  as  was  very  true,  that  "  he  knew  and  she 
knew,"  saying  further,  that  there  were  some  good  things 
about  him,  and  she  presumed  he  would  be  tolerably  hap 
py  with  Cousin  'Lena,  as  they  were  somewhat  alike! 
Very  naturally,  too,  she  took  to  quoting  and  cousining 
'Lena,  while  John  Jr.  seldom  let  an  opportunity  pass  of 
hinting  at  the  very  recent  date  of  her  admiration  of  Miss 
Graham. 

Almost  every  day  for  several  weeks  after  Durward's 
return,  he  looked  for  a  visit  from  Joel  Slocum,  who,  be 
ing  proverbially  slow  in  his  movements,  did  not  make  his 
appearance  until  sometime  toward  the  last  of  November. 
Then  he  came  in  full  dress,  claiming,  and  proving,  too, 
his  relationship  with  Mrs.  Graham,  who  was  terribly  an 
noyed,  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  who,  it  was  rumored, 
at  last  hired  him  to  leave !  For  the  truth  of  this  we  cannot 
vouch.  We  only  know,  that  the  morning  after  his  de 
parture,  Mr.  Graham's  pocket-book  was  minus  some  two 
hundred  dollars,  and  when  he  declared  his  intention  of 
investigating  the  case,  his  lady  went  into  violent  hyster 
ics,  thereby  inducing  him  to  desist. 

During  the  winter,  nothing  of  importance  occurred,  if 
we  except  the  fact  that  a  part  of  Mabel's  fortune,  which 
was  supposed  to  have  been  lost,  was  found  to  be  good, 
and  that  John  Jr.  one  day  unexpectedly  found  himself  to 


CONCLUSION.  401 

be  the  lawful  heir  of  fifty  thousand  dollars.  Upon  Mrs, 
Livingstone  this  circumstance  produced  a  rather  novel 
effect,  renewing,  in  its  original  force,  all  her  old  affection 
for  Mabel,  who  was  now  "  our  dear  little  Meb."  Many 
were  the  comparisons  drawn  between  Mrs.  John  Jr.  No.  1 , 
and  Mrs.  John  Jr.  No.  2,  that  was  to  be,  the  former  being 
pronounced  far  more  lady-like  and  accomplished  than  the 
latter,  who,  during  her  frequent  visits  at  Maple  Grove, 
continually  startled  her  mother-in-law  elect  by  her  loud, 
ringing  laugh,  for  Nellie  was  now  very  happy.  Her  in' 
fluence,  too,  over  John  Jr.  became,  erelong,  perceptible 
in  his  quiet,  gentle  manner,  and  his  abstinence  from  the 
rude  speeches  which  heretofore  had  almost  seemed  a  pan 
of  his  nature. 

Mrs.  Graham  had  proposed  spending  the  winter  in  New 
Orleans,  but  to  this  Durward  objected.  He  wanted 
'Lena  all  to  himself,  he  said,  and  as  she  seemed  perfectly 
satisfied  to  remain  where  she  was,  the  project  was  given 
up,  Mrs.  Graham  contenting  herself  with  anticipating  the 
splendid  entertainment  she  would  give  at  the  wedding, 
which  was  to  take  place  about  the  last  of  March.  To 
ward  the  first  of  January  the  preparations  began,  and  if 
Carry  had  never  before  felt  a  pang  of  envy,  she  did  now, 
when  she  saw  the  elegant  bridal  trosseau  which  Mr.  Graham 
saw  fit  to  purchase  for  his  daughter.  But  all  such  feel 
ings  must  be  concealed,  and  almost  every  day  she  rode 
over  to  Woodlawn,  admiring  this,  going  into  ecstasies 
over  that,  and  patronizingly  giving  her  advice  on  all  sub- 
jects,  while  all  the  time  her  heart  was  swelling  with  its 
heavy  weight  of  bitter  disappointment.  Having  always 
felt  so  sure  of  securing  Durward,  she  had  invariably  treat- 
ed  other  gentleman  with  such  cool  indifference  that  she 
was  a  favorite  with  but  few,  and  as  she  considered  these 
few  greatly  her  inferiors,  she  had  more  than  once  felt  a 


408  LENA  RIVERS. 

pang  of  fear  lest  John  Jr.'s  prediction  concerning  the  let 
tering  on  her  tomb-stone  should  prove  true  ! 

"  Anything  but  that,"  said  she,  dashing  away  the  angry 
tears,  as  she  thought  how  'Lena  had  supplanted  her  in  the 
affections  of  the  only  person  she  could  ever  love. 

"  Old  Marster  Atherton  done  want  to  see  you  in  the 
parlor,"  said  Corinda,  putting  her  woolly  head  in  at  the 
door,  and  interrupting  her  young  mistress'  reflections. 

Since  his  unfortunate  affair  with  Anna,  the  captain  had 
rather  avoided  Maple  Grove,  but  feeling  lonely  at  Sunny- 
side,  he  had  come  over  this  morning  to  call.  Finding 
Mrs.  Livingstone  absent,  he  had  asked  for  Carrie,  who 
was  so  unusually  gracious  that  the  bachelor  gentleman 
wondered  he  had  never  before  discovered  how  agreeable 
and  how  greatly  superior  to  her  sister  Carrie  was  !  All 
his  favorite  pieces  were  sung  to  him,  and  then,  with  the 
patience  of  a  martyr,  the  young  lady  seated  herself  at  the 
backgammon  board,  her  special  aversion,  playing  game 
after  game,  until  she  could  scarcely  tell  her  men  from  his. 
On  his  way  home  the  captain  fell  into  a  curious  train  of 
reflections  touching  his  future,  while  Carrie,  when  asked 
by  Corinda,  if  "  old  marster  was  done  gone,"  sharply 
reprimanded  the  negro  girl,  telling  her  "  it  was  very  im 
polite  to  call  anybody  old,  particularly  one  so  young  as 
Captain  Atherton ! " 

The  next  day  the  captain  came  again,  and  the  next,  and 
the  next,  until  at  last  his  former  intimacy  at  Maple  Grove 
seemed  to  be  fully  reestablished.  And  all  this  time  no 
one  had  an  inkling  of  the  true  state  of  things,  not  even 
John  Jr.,  who  never  dreamed  it  possible  for  his  haughty, 
beautiful  sister,  to  grace  Sunnyside  as  its  mistress.  "  But 
sti  anger  things  than  that  had  happened  and  were  happen- 
ing  every  day."  Thus  reasoned  Carrie  as  she  sat  alone 
in  her  room,  revolving  the  propriety  or  impropriety  of 


CONCLUSION.  403 

answering  "  Yes  "  to  a  delicate  perfumed  note  which  the 
captain  had  that  morning  placed  in  her  hand  at  parting. 
She  looked  at  herself  in  the  long  mirror.  Her  face  was 
fair,  very  fair,  and  as  yet  untouched  by  a  single  mark  or 
line.  She  thought  of  him,  bcdd,  wrinkled,  fat  and  forty- 
six! 

"No,  I'll  never  do  it,"  she  exclaimed,  passionately, 
tearing  the  note  into  fragments.  "  Better  live  single  all 
my  days." 

At  this  moment,  the  handsome  carriage  of  Mrs.  Graham 
drew  up,  and  from  it  alighted  'Lena,  richly  clad  in  velvets 
and  costly  furs.  The  sight  of  her  produced  a  reaction, 
and  Carrie  thought  again.  Captain  Atherton  was  gener 
ous  to  a  fault.  He  was  both  able  and  willing  to  grant 
her  slightest  wish,  and  as  his  wife,  she  could  compete  with, 
if  not  outdo,  'Lena  in  the  splendor  of  her  surroundings. 
The  golden  pen  was  resumed,  and  with  a  steady  hand 
Carrie  Livingstone  wrote  the  words  which  sealed  her 
destiny  for  life.  This  done,  nothing  could  move  her,  and 
though  her  father  entreated,  her  mother  scolded,  and 
John  Jr.  actually  swore,  it  made  no  difference.  "  She  was 
old  enough  to  choose  for  herself,"  she  said,  "  and  she  had 
done  so." 

When  Mrs.  Livingstone  became  convinced  that  her 
daughter  was  in  earnest,  she  gave  up  the  contest,  taking 
sides  with  her,  and  saying  she  would  not  have  it  other 
wise  if  she  could.  Like  Durward,  Captain  Atherton  was 
in  a  hurry,  and  as  Carrie's  chief  desire  was  to  be  married 
before  'Lena,  thus  preventing  John  Jr.  from  teasing  her 
about  being  left  hi  the  rear,  it  was  decided  that  the  wed 
ding  should  take  place  just  one  week  before  the  time  ap 
pointed  for  that  of  her  cousin.  Determining  not  to  be 
outdone  by  Mrs.  Graham,  Mrs.  Livingstone  launched  forth 
on  a  large  scale,  and  there  commenced  between  the  two 


410  'LENA  RIVERS. 

houses  a  species  of  rivalry  extremely  amusing  to  a  lo  jker 
on.  Did  Mrs.  Graham  purchase  for  'Lena  a  costly  silk, 
Mrs.  Livingstone  forthwith  secured  a  piece  of  similar  qual 
ity,  but  different  pattern,  for  Carrie.  Did  Mrs.  Graham 
order  forty  dollar's  worth  of  confectionary,  Mrs.  Living 
stone  immediately  increased  her  order  to  fifty  dollars. 
And  when  it  was  known  that  Mrs  Graham  had  engaged 
a  Louisville  French  cook  at  two  dollars  per  day,  Mrs.  Liv 
ingstone  sent  to  Cincinnati,  offering  three  dollars  for  one ! 

Carrie  had  decided  upon  a  tour  to  Europe,  and  the 
captain  had  given  his  consent,  when  it  was  currently  re 
ported  that  Durward  and  'Lena  were  also  intending  to 
sail  for  Liverpool.  In  this  dilemma  there  was  no  alterna 
tive  save  a  trip  to  California,  or  the  Sandwich  Islands ! 
The  former  was  chosen,  Captain  Atherton  generously  of 
fering  to  defray  Mrs.  Livingstone's  expenses  if  she  would 
accompany  them.  This  plan  Carrie  warmly  seconded,  for 
she  knew  her  mother's  presence  would  greatly  relieve  her 
froni  the  society  of  her  husband,  which  was  not  as  agree 
able  to  her  as  it  ought  to  have  been.  But  now  a  new  ob 
stacle  arose.  Mr.  Livingstone  refused  to  let  his  wife  go, 
unless  Anna  could  be  persuaded  to  come  home  and  re 
main  with  him  while  she  was  gone. 

Unwilling  as  Carrie  was  to  meet  her  sister,  under  ex 
isting  circumstances,  she,  for  the  sake  of  her  mother's 
company,  reluctantly  consented,  and  her  father  accord 
ingly  wrote  to  Anna,  inviting  her  and  Malcolm  to  be 
present  at  Carrie's  wedding,  purposely  omitting  the  name 
of  the  bridegroom.  A  little  fidgety,  Captain  Atherton 
awaited  the  answer,  wliich  was  that  they  would  come,  and 
three  days  before  the  appointed  time  they  were  there. 
It  was  dark  when  they  arrived,  and  as  they  were  not  ex 
pected  that  night,  they  entered  the  house  ere  any  one  waa 
aware  of  their  presence.  John  Jr.  chanced  to  be  in  the 


CONCLUSION.  411 

hail,  and  the  moment  he  saw  Anna,  he  caught  her  in  liia 
arms,  shouting  so  uproarously  that  his  father  and  mother 
at  once  hastened  to  the  spot. 

"  Will  you  forgive  me,  father,"  said  Anna.  "  You  would 
if  you  knew  how  much  I  loved  him — Malcolm — my  hus 
band." 

Mr.  Livingstone  replied  by  clasping  her  closer  to  his 
bosom,  while  he  extended  his  hand  toward  Malcolm,  who, 
proud  as  ever,  had  no  forgiveness  to  ask.  With  a  haugh 
tiness  equal  to  her  own,  he  returned  the  greeting  of  his 
mother-in-law,  who,  after  welcoming  her  daughter,  turned 
to  him,  saying,  "  she  hoped  he  was  well." 

"  Where's  Carrie  ?  "  asked  Anna,  and  John  Jr.  replied, 
"  In  the  parlor,  with  her  future  spouse.  Shall  I  introduce 
you?" 

So  saying,  he  dragged  her  into  the  parlor,  where  she 
recoiled  almost  in  terror  as  she  saw  Captain  Atherton,  sit 
ting  much  nearer  to  Carrie  than  he  had  ever  sat  to  her  ! 

"  Oh,  Carrie !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  It  is  impossible.  It 

cannot  be that  I  see  you  again  ! "  she  added,  as  she 

met  her  sister's  warning  look. 

Another  moment  and  they  were  in  each  other's  arms, 
weeping  bitterly,  the  one  that  her  only  sister  should  thus 
wantonly  throw  herself  away,  and  the  other,  she  scarcely 
knew  why,  only  she  was  wretched.  It  was  but  for  an 
instant,  however,  and  then  Carrie  .was  herself  again. 
Playfully  presenting  Anna  to  her  future  brother-in-law, 
she  said,  "Ain't  I  good  to  take  up  with  what  you  left!" 

But  no  one  smiled  at  this  joke — the  captain,  least  of  all, 
and  as  Carrie  glanced  from  him  to  the  noble,  manly  form  of 
Malcolm,  she  felt  that  her  sister  had  made  a  happy  choice. 
The  next  day  'Lena  came,  overjoyed  to  meet  Anna,  who, 
since  the  night  of  her  elopement,  had  looked  upon  her 


412  'LENA  RIVERS. 

with  a  species  of  adoration,  and  who,  perhaps  more  than 
any  one  else,  rejoiced  in  her  good  fortune. 

"You  deserve  it  all,"  said  she,  when  they  were  alone, 
and  if  Carrie  only  had  one  tithe  of  your  happiness  in  store, 
I  should  be  satisfied." 

But  Carrie  asked  for  no  sympathy,  would  receive  none 
"It  was  no  one's  business  whom  she  married,"  she  said> 
"  if  she  only  suited  herself;"  and  so  one  pleasant  night  in 
the  early  spring,  when  the  new  moon  hung  like  a  silver 
thread  in  the  western  sky,  and  the  shining  stars  from 
their  far-off  homes  looked  sadly  down  upon  her,  they 
decked  her  in  her  bridal  robes,  arranged  the  fall  of  her 
flowing  veil,  placed  the  orange  wreath  among  the  heavy 
braids  of  her  hair,  and  then,  white,  cold,  and  feelingless 
as  a  marble  statue,  she  laid  her  hand  in  Captain  Ather- 
ton's,  and  in  a  calm,  unwavering  voice  took  upon  her  the 
vows  which  made  her  his  forever.  It  was  a  grand  affair, 
outrivaling  anything  which  had  been  seen  in  the  coun 
try  for  a  long  time,  but  Mrs.  Graham  smiled  complacent 
ly,  thinking  how  she  would  outdo  it  all.  A  few  days  af 
ter  the  ceremony,  Carrie,  already  grown  weary  of  her 
new  position,  began  to  urge  their  immediate  departure  for 
California. 

"  There  was  no  need  of  further  delay,"  she  said.  "  Xo 
one  cared  to  see  'Lena  married.  Weddings  were  stupid 
things,  anyway,  and  her  mother  could  just  as  well  go  one 
time  as  another." 

At  first  Mrs.  Livingstone  hesitated,  but  when  the  bride 
of  four  days  burst  into  a  passionate  fit  of  weeping,  declar 
ing  "  she'd  kill  herself  if  she  had  to  stay  much  longer  at 
Sunnyside  and  be  petted  by  that  old  fool,"  she  consented, 
and  one  week  from  the  day  of  their  marriage  they  started. 
In  Carrie's  eyes  there  was  already  a  look  of  weary  sad- 
Dess,  which  said  that  the  bitter  tears  were  constantly 


CONCLUSION.  413 

welling  up,  while  on  her  brow  a  shadow  was  resting,  as 
if  Sunnyside  were  a  greater  burden  than  she  could  bear, 
But  the  elegance  of  her  traveling  costume  in  a  measure 
consoled  her,  and  when  she  was  repeatedly  mistaken  for 
the  daughter  of  her  portly  spouse,  she  thought  of  his  great 
wealth,  and  gathered  what  comfort  she  could  from  that. 
Alas,  for  a  union  without  love !  It  seldom  fails  to  end 
in  misery,  and  thus,  when  all  too  late,  poor  Carrie  found 
it.  Her  husband  was  proud  of  her,  and  had  she  permitted, 
would  have  loved  her  after  his  fashion,  but  to  use  her  own 
words,  "  the  very  sight  of  him  was  hateful,"  and  his  affec 
tionate  advances  were  invariably  repulsed,  until  at  last  he 
treated  her  with  a  cold  politeness,  far  more  endurable 
than  his  fawning  attentions  had  been.  She  was  welcome 
to  go  her  own  way,  and  he  went  his,  each  having  in  San 
Francisco  their  own  suite  of  rooms,  Carrie's  being  with 
her  mother,  and  each  setting  up,  as  it  were,  a  separate 
establishment.  In  this  way  they  got  on  quite  comfortably 
for  a  few  weeks,  at  the  end  of  which  time  Carrie  took  it 
into  her  capricious  head  to  return  home,  to  Maple  Grove. 
She  would  never  go  back  to  Sunnyside,  she  said.  And 
without  a  word  of  opposition  the  captain  picked  up  his 
things,  paid  his  bills,  and  started  for  Kentucky,  leaving 
his  wife  at  Maple  Grove,  she  giving  as  a  reason  that  "  ma 
could  not  spare  her  yet." 

Far  different  from  this  were  the  future  prospects  of 
Durward  and  'Lena,  who  with  perfect  love  in  their  hearts 
were  made  one,  a  week  after  the  departure  of  Captain 
Atherton  for  California.  In  the  style  of  her  dress  'Lena 
had  followed  the  dictates  of  her  own  good  taste,  rather 
than  the  wishes  of  Mrs.  Graham,  and  the  assembled  guests 
unanimously  pronounced  her  the  most  beautiful  bride 
they  had  ever  seen.  Very  proudly  Durward  looked  down 
upon  her  as  he  placed  the  first  husband's  kiss  on  her  pure, 


114  'LENA  RIVERA 

white  brow,  and  in  the  soft  brown  eyes,  brimming  with 
tears,  which  she  raised  to  his  face,  there  was  a  world  of 
tenderness,  telling  that  theirs  was  a  union  of  hearts  as 
well  as  hands. 

"  Nellie  and  Anna — John  Jr.  and  Malcolm,  were  brides 
maids  and  groomsmen,  Anna  being  arrayed  in  the  same 
white  satin  and  embroidered  lace  which  had  been  des 
tined  for  the  bride  of  Captain  Atherton.  But  far  better 
they  became  the  fair  wife  of  Malcolm  Everett,  who  laugh 
ingly  proposed  that  they  be  married  over,  as  he  led  her  to 
the  crowded  drawing-rooms.  Mrs.  Graham  was  in  her 
element,  for  many  whispered  remarks  reached  her  ears 
concerning  the  superiority  of  her  entertainment  to  that 
of  Mrs.  Livingstone,  who  unfortunately  was  not  present 
to  be  mortified  by  her  triumph. 

The  next  night  a  smaller  party  assembled  at  the  house  of 
Mr.  Douglass,  in  Frankfort,  proceeding  thence  to  the  Epis 
copal  church,  where  Nellie  was  soon  transformed  into 
Nellie  Livingstone.  Perhaps  it  was  the  remembrance  of 
the  frail  young  girl  to  whom  his  vows  had  once  beforo 
been  plighted  that  made  John  Jr.  so  unusually  serious, 
appearing  for  a  time  as  if  he  were  in  a  dream.  But  the 
moment  they  rallied  him  upon  the  strangeness  of  his  man' 
ner,  he  brightened  up,  saying  he  was  trying  to  get  used 
to  thinking  that  Nellie  was  really  his.  It  had  been  de 
cided  that  he  should  accompany  Durward  and  'Lena  to 
Europe,  and  a  day  or  two  after  his  marriage  he  asked  Mr, 
Everett  to  go,  too.  Anna's  eyes  fairly  danced  with  joy, 
for  of  all  things,  a  tour  to  Italy,  and  with  Malcolm,  too, 
was  in  her  estimation  the  very  best.  But  much  as  her 
husband  would  like  to  go,  he  could  not  afford  it,  and  so 
he  frankly  said,  kissing  away  the  big  tear  which  rolled 
down  Anna's  cheek. 

With  a  peculiar  smile  John  Jr.  placed  a  sealed  package 


CONCLUSION.  4 1 C 

in  his  sister's  lap,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  "  I  have  anticipated 
ail  this  and  provided  for  it.  "  I  suppose  you  are  aware 
that  Mabel  generously  willed  me  all  her  property,  which, 
contrary  to  our  expectations,  has  proved  to  be  considera 
ble.  I  know  I  do  not  deserve  a  cent  of  it,  but  as  she  had 
no  nearer  relative  than  Mr.  Douglass,  I  have  concluded 
to  use  it  for  the  comfort  of  his  daughter  and  for  the  good 
of  others.  I  wan't  you  and  Anna  to  join  us,  and  I've 
given  her  such  a  sum  as  will  bear  your  expenses,  and  leavt 
you  more  than  you  can  earn  dickering  at  law  for  three  o; 
four  years.  So,  puss,"  turning  to  Anna,  "  it's  all  settled, 
and  do  you  go  and  buy  all  those  dresses  you've  thought 
of  by  this  time.  Wo  can  wait  a  week  or  two,  until  thev 
are  made,  and  then,  hurrah  for  the  sunny  skies  of  Franc* 
and  Italy.  I've  talked  with  father  about  it,  and  he's  wil 
ling  to  stay  alone  for  the  sake  of  having  you  go.  Oh,  don't 
thank  me,"  he  continued,  retreating  toward  the  door,  as 
he  saw  them  about  to  speak.  "  It  makes  me  ashamed. 
Besides  that,  it's  poor  little  Meb  to  whom  you  are  indebted. 
She  loved  Anna,  and  would  willingly  have  her  money 
used  for  this  purpose." 

After  a  little  reflection  Malcolm  concluded  to  accept 
John's  offer,  and  a  happier,  more  merry  party  never  stepped 
on  board  a  steamer  than  that  which,  on  the  15th  of  April, 
sailed  for  Europe,  which  they  reached  in  safety,  being  at 
the  last  accounts  in  Paris,  where  Durward's  high  English 
blood  had  already  procured  for  them  an  acquaintance  with 
the  emperor  and  empress,  'Lena  having  come  to  the  honor 
of  actually  kissing  the  Prince  of  Algiers,  while  Nellie  and 
Anna  contented  themselves  with  a  look  at  the  dress  of  the 
royal  infant,  John  Jr.  slily  bidding  them  take  pattern ! 

A  few  words  more,  and  our  story  is  told.  Just  as  Mr. 
Livingstone  was  getting  tolerably  well  suited  with  hig 
bachelor  life,  he  was  one  morning  surprised  by  the  return 


410  'LEXA  TJVERS. 

of  his  wife  and  daughter,  the  latter  of  whom,  as  we  have 
before  stated,  took  up  her  abode  at  Maple  Grove.  Al 
most  every  day  the  old  captain  rides  over  to  see  her,  but 
he  generally  carries  back  a  longer  face  than  he  brings 
The  bald  spot  on  his  head  is  growing  larger,  and  to  hei 
utter  dismay  Carrie  has  discovered  a  "  crow  track  "  in  the 
corner  of  her  eye.  Frequently,  after  a  war  of  words  with 
her  mother,  which  occurs  oftener  than  it  ought,  she  an 
nounces  her  intention  of  repairing  forthwith  to  Sunnyside, 
but  a  sight  of  the  captain  on  his  cream-colored  horse  is 
sufficient  to  banish  all  such  thoughts.  And  thus  she  lives, 
that  most  wretched  of  all  beings,  an  unloving  and  un 
loved  wife. 

During  the  absence  of  their  children,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Gra 
ham  remain  at  Woodlawn,  which,  as  it  is  the  property  of 
Durward,  will  be  his  own  and  'Lena's  home,  his  parents 
going  back  to  Louisville. 

Jerry  Langley  has  changed  his  occupation  of  driver  for 
that  of  a  brakeman  on  the  railroad  between  Canandaigua 
and  Niagara  Falls,  where  he  is  the  unfailing  friend  of  all 
the  halt,  blind,  maimed,  and  lazy,  who  call  on  him  for  aid. 

In  conclusion,  we  will  say  of  our  old  friend,  Uncle 
Timothy,  that  he  joined  "  the  Hindews  "  as  proposed,  was 
nominated  for  constable,  and,  sure  of  success,  bought  an 
old  gig  for  the  better  transportation  of  himself  over  the 
town.  But  alas  for  human  hopes — particularly  if  founded 
upon  politics — the  whole  American  ticket  was  defeated 
at  Laurel  Hill,  since  which  time  he  has  gone  over  to  the 
Republicans,  swearing  eternal  allegiance  to  them,  provid 
ed  they  procure  for  him  the  desired  office,  and  denounc 
ing  his  quondam  brethren  as  Know  Nothings  in  reality. 


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A  NEW  NOVEL.-/;?  Press.  do.  $1.50 

Walter  Barrett,  Clerk. 

OLD  MERCHANTS  OF  NEW  YORK.-Being  personal  incidents 
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in  the  life  of  nearly  every  leading  merchant  in  New  York 
City..  Two  series.  .  .  12  mo.  cloth,  each,  $1.50 

T.  S.  Arthur's  New  Works. 

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A  COLLECHON  of  exquisitely  satirical   and  humorous  military 
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OT.   Midi,  lor*  Works. 

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LIST  OF  BOOKS  PUBLISHED 


Charles  Reade. 

THE  CLOISTER  AND  THE  HEARTH.— A  magnificent  new  novel,  by 
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The  Opera. 

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J.  C.  Jeaffreson. 

A  BOOK  ABOUT  DOCTORS.— An  exceedingly  humorous  and  en 
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famous  physicians  and  surgeons.  I2mo.  cloth,  $1.50 

Fred.  S.  Cozzens. 

THE  SPAREOWGRASS  PAPERS.— A  capital  humorous  work,  with 
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F.  D.  Guerrazzi. 

BEATRICE  CENCI.— A  great  historical  novel.  Translated  from 
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famous  picture  in  Rome.  .  .  izmo.  cloth,  $1.50 

Private  OTiles  O'Reilly. 

HIS  BOOK.-Rich  with  his  songs,  services,  and  speeches,  and 
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The  New  York   Central  Park. 

A  SUPERB  GIFT  BOOK.— The  Central  Park  pleasantly  described, 
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photographs  of  the  principal  views  and  objects  of  interest. 
A   large    quarto     volume,   sumptuously   bound   in  Turkey 
morocco,  ...  ...     $25.00 

Joseph  Rodman  Drake. 

THE  CULPRIT  FAY.— The  most  charming  faery  poem  in  the 
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Mother  Goose  for  Grown  Folks. 

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Stephen  Massett. 

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A  Ne\v  Sporting  Work. 

GAME  FISH  OF  THE  NORTH.-One  of  the  best  books  on  fish 
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14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

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LD  21-100m-6,'56 
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General  Library 

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GENERAL  LIBRARY  -  U.C.  BERKELEY 


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